


The Beginning of the Fall

by Avrina



Series: Tales from the Eastern Kingdoms [6]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Betrayal, Blood Magic, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brothers, Courtship, Elemental Magic, Enemies, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Family, Fictional Religion & Theology, First Kiss, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Half-Siblings, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kings & Queens, Knights - Freeform, Loss, M/M, Magic, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Marriage of Convenience, Minor Character Death, Necromancy, Past Violence, Princes & Princesses, Religion, Sex, Sexual Slavery, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Sorceresses, Trust, Violence, War, magical dreams, violence between brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 104,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23343595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avrina/pseuds/Avrina
Summary: Three princes. Three times the desire to prove themselves, apart being prince.Alex as a knight.Matt as a diplomat.Sev as a conqueror.But the tournament where they meet for the first time changes everything.Sev will become a traitor.Matt will have to fight.Alex will have to command.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Tales from the Eastern Kingdoms [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630612
Comments: 34
Kudos: 4





	1. Family and politics

**Author's Note:**

> Right at the beginning: this story is not part of Sam's adventure and takes place in a different time!

Sev was aware that he was dreaming. The white horse he rode across the muddy meadow was not his; there was no such horse in the colony. He didn't have any legionary armor either and didn't know the city he was riding towards. Everything around him was strangely blurred.  
He blinked and suddenly found himself much closer to the city, the castle suddenly sitting on its left and not behind it anymore. To the left and right of him there were colorful tents, around him flowed colorful human dots. Even when he concentrated on something, it remained blurred. And then the horse stopped, the humans backed off, moved differently, making room for three figures, who came towards Sev, side by side and purposefully, and then stopped in front of him.  
The figure in the middle was a dark-haired woman in green and her face was the only thing that became razor-sharp for a moment. Chestnut brown brows over grass-green eyes, freckles on a narrow nose and fine cheekbones, pale full lips. Those very lips opened, but didn't move when she said:  
"Severin." His name, adapted to the language of the Eastern Kingdoms.  
Seen from Sev's position on her left, there was a man in reddish-brown and green clothes, for his stocky figure he moved very smoothly. The only thing Sev could clearly see of him were the yellow-brown amber eyes that seemed to bore into Sev's soul.  
"The spirits see you," he said in a bright voice, which Sev hadn't expected with his stature.  
On the other side of the woman walked a silver figure, a knight, who either wore a yellow-golden helmet or had long blond hair. Whatever he had painted on his shield shimmered in light green and white.  
"Sharpen your sword," he said surprisingly deep.  
"Severin," the woman said. "You must make a choice."  
"The spirits are agitated," said the dark-haired man. "Don't make them your enemy."  
The knight drew his sword and pointed at Sev. "Make the wrong choice and you will die."  
"Severin," the woman said again. "Severin. Severin."

"Severio!"  
Sev gasped and blinked, the light of a lantern dazzled him uncomfortably for a moment. Said lantern was held by Lazio, his servant, who looked at him uneasily.  
"Why did you wake me?" Sev wanted to know with a grumble, because the shutters were still closed.  
"Oh, well... two ships have come. B-but, Master, you were having bad dreams and murmuring. About... about spirits..." Lazio was terribly superstitious and despite long years in the Eastern Kingdoms, he had not yet shed his fear of the Great Mother and the spirits that supposedly wandered here. Sev sighed; he would certainly not tell Lazio about his dream - which, after all, was already fading.  
"Where exactly are the ships?" he asked instead.  
"They should be anchored by now, Master. As soon as the sun rises, the boats will be sent out to unload."  
"Then let me sleep until then."

A cold wind came from the white cliffs, bent the grass and tugged at Sev's clothes. The pulley creaked loudly and the workers shouted instructions to each other over the wind, which only became understandable through gestures. Slowly and carefully Sev walked down the wide steps, which were cut into the cliffs, down to the bay. The white cliffs in the northern half of the country and the white sand had given Silvershore its name and the former prevented the imperial colony from having a real port. The jetties and piers for the boats couldn't be called a _port_ with a clear conscience, if one knew the enormous complex of Marsilia. Much further out, at a safe distance from the cliffs and natural breakwaters, two wide-bellied merchant ships anchored and were busily unloaded into the small boats.  
Numos, the steward, stood at the edge of a pier that had been extended across the beach to the pulley and in some places extended into platforms, checking papers and box labels. When Sev reached him, he cursed.  
"I can see why we should build so many new shelters and warehouses despite the shitty winter, but is the Emperor _crazy_ to send such precious cargo before the end of precisely that shitty winter?" Numos handed Sev a part of the papers. Metal ingots, leather, fabrics, plant seedlings, dried herbs and reagents. He didn't need to see the other lists to know that in the next weeks and months horses, men, wood and other things would also be shipped.  
When he handed the lists back to Numos, he saw a third trading ship appearing in the distance.  
"Well, apparently the Emperor is of sound mind to generously sacrifice to Neptidon and Fortuna," he lightly remarked. Numos muttered:  
"Do not anger the master of the sea if your home is on the cliff."  
Sev denied himself an answer, also because a naval officer jumped out of one of the boats and pressed a bag made of heavy leather against himself. While still running he saluted and had already half turned to Numos- who was dressed according to his rank, unlike Sev-, when his eyes fell on Sev's birthmark. The red-brown curlicues stretched from the shoulder over the neck to the lower jaw on the cheek and it was impossible to cover them. The officer took a tripping step and said:  
"Vicegerent- the mail." That wasn't Sev's title, but it was still better than anything the man in his terror could have come up with.  
"Thank you," Sev simply replied and took the bag.  
The officer saluted again.  
"Put my orders on my desk," Numos murmured and Sev allowed himself a fine smile.

 _Sev, my darling, your father expects great things from you. With one of the next ships he will send you an armor, made in the imperial smithy, and a horse, straight from his stables and chosen by his hand. Your brothers are envious and at least Tiziano will join you later._  
Sev read the letter from his mother with mixed feelings. In her eyes he was a hero, blessed by the gods and practically infallible. She loved him and since he was so far away, she packed all her feelings into the page long letters. At times Sev had the feeling that she wasn't talking to him, but to a lover, and that made things even more difficult. He hadn't seen his mother for almost ten years and probably never would again. Sometimes he regretted it, but not today.  
She must have burned, smoked or brewed another one of her strange herbal mixtures, because her last paragraph was written in shaky letters and confusing.  
 _Venyte appeared to me in a dream, on the side of Mars. But it was she who wore armor while he smiled in all his naked splendor. They spoke of a tournament where battle and beauty are combined, where the most beautiful knight can lose and still be victorious._  
That was what Sev could decipher best, because it made sense. Some later sentences ended without any meaning and here and there even words remained incomplete. Even his mother's name was more an ink stain than a word. Shaking his head, he put the letter aside and turned to Lazio, who stood patiently in the doorway.  
"What is it?"  
"Master, a messenger from the king arrived."  
"The King of Silvershore?"  
Lazio nodded and handed him a message, sealed with white wax.

With difficulty Sev deciphered the words. He had lived in the Eastern Kingdoms for almost ten years and had learned their language since he was a child, but the spoken language and all the dialects were very different from the written version, apart from the fact that here they shaped the letters much rounder and added endless ornaments.  
Basically it was a forwarded invitation from the King of Whitehill, who this year hosted the great knight tournament, which was held every two years in a different kingdom.  
Sev was stunned. Back in the autumn, Whitehill and Threehills had been at war with each other. That autumn, his request for an audience with the Queen of Darkmoore- he had been ordered to visit the magical kingdom- was rejected in a hostile tone. Still in the autumn Silvershore and Ringbay had threatened each other for some water rights.  
And now they all wanted to sit together on a grandstand and watch show fights?

~

"I sincerely hope you wash before you come for breakfast."  
Alex finished the blow to the other squire before he turned around. Wrapped in the black shapeless robe of the wizards and with the white novice cap on her dark hair, Ariel didn't look like she cared about the early hour. The sun had just risen, but Alex and most of the other squires had been in the training yard for over an hour- the barracks' hour bell would ring at six no matter when the sun rose.  
"Is that an invitation to the royal table?" he asked, a little late. She pointed to her clothes.  
"To the paternal one, Alex."  
"What, the bastard's gonna be there?" He made a face and spat when Ariel nodded.  
"Father called it a family reunion. I suppose he has several things he wants to discuss."  
"What would he want to talk about? Did he make you get kicked out of bed?" Alex critically narrowed his brows.  
"He already sent me a message last night. But now go and wash, you stink of rotten apples."  
Alex grumbled at her, but wisely kept his mouth shut when he felt a nudge from the earth under his soles.  
  


A servant opened the simple door in the great ceremonial portals of the Great Hall for Alex and he entered. The air, warmed by great fires, filled with the smell of food, wet fur and sweat, hit him like a wall after the cool corridors. After a deep breath he went on, passed the tables of the guards and knights who filled about two thirds of the hall, then the tables for the nobles who were currently residing in the castle. At the end of the hall, right next to the royal throne, stood the long heavy table for the royal family and Alex walked straight towards it.  
King Steven bounced on the edge of the throne, in one hand a steaming cup, in the other some document. On his right sat Queen Nadira, proudly straightened and stiff as a statue, on his left Crown Prince Samson and his wife Lorelei; while Samson looked over Steven's shoulder at the document, Alex's sister-in-law was talking to Ariel, who had taken a seat next to her.  
Just as Alex reached the three steps to the royal podium, a small side door opened and Sebastian- already at this early hour with ink stains on his fingers-, Nathalie- dressed up as ever- and the bastard entered the Great Hall. Alex demonstratively averted his gaze and sat down, immediately a servant rushed over and poured hot tea for him and Ariel.  
A few heartbeats later the servants brought plates and bowls of fresh bread and butter, scrambled eggs and ham, porridge and pickled fruit, cold roast from the evening before and smoked fish.  
Alex, who was hungry after the early morning training, reached out and tried not to dirty his good clothes; with his plain tunics for the barracks he wouldn't have cared.

At a hint from Steven, the servants brought wet cloths for face and hands and when the king rose, it became suddenly quiet.  
"The king wishes you a pleasant day," Steven said majestically and nodded to those present; some of the nobles nodded back, and several guards and knights raised their cups in greeting. Then the queen and the king's children followed the sovereign out the side door, through the corridors to his private study.  
Next to the blazing fire were four chairs for the women and when Steven sat down, he offered Samson the seat next to him, but the prince preferred to stand. Alex clasped his hands behind his back and glanced briefly at Ariel, who looked at him with a warning.  
"Well, the tournament may be a while away, but I'd still like to discuss a few things," Steven finally said after looking everyone in the eye. "We all know the peace with Threehills is still a little shaky."  
In Alex's eyes, this was a little exaggerated, because there had been no skirmishes after the peace agreement.  
"Sebastian, I want you to get in touch with Matthew Hazel. He is a bookworm and, according to our spies, will be coming to the tournament. Make friends with him and see if it's safe for us to let Nathalie" - she made a grumpy sound - "get married to him."  
Sebastian nodded. "Of course, father." Sebastian would obey, and if Prince Matthew was even a little bit like him, it could actually become a real friendship.  
"Martin Hazel will definitely come and compete in the tournament, it will be a good opportunity to see who he's making eyes at, there are various rumors," Steven continued. "In the meantime, we'll announce Sebastian's engagement and see who approaches."  
Alex got a thoughtful look and tensed up. The thought of being married to some woman he didn't know made him sick.  
"You get your knighthood in silence. Honor us at the tournament and you will receive the tournament accolade. That should earn you some admiring glances, and if you pick a pretty pair of eyes, I won't mind."  
Alex simply nodded. To receive an accolade at a tournament was an honor and proof of a squire's skill and that's exactly what he wanted to prove. He could do without beautiful eyes for the moment.  
"As for you," Steven turned to the bastard, "there are certainly several nobles out there who desperately need a son-in-law or heir, but you discuss that with _me_ before you drop your pants, understand?"  
Nadira cleared her throat at this implication, but the bastard nodded.  
"Of course, father." The smile playing around his lips couldn't fool anyone, and so Ariel said, also smiling:  
"Maybe you should put a chastity belt on him for the duration of the tournament."  
"Just because bastards are still more popular than sorceresses doesn't justify being mean."  
"Christian." That was Samson and Christian bowed his head. Steven had acknowledged the boy- he smelled of apples, so he had no choice- but that didn't mean he liked him, and Christian obeyed only his father, the future king... and his desires.  
Steven sighed, half resigned, half annoyed, gave Christian a warning look and then turned to Ariel.  
"The princes Arik and Nicholas will be competing in the tournament and there was some interest in their fathers' letters."  
She snorted. "They're just vying for a trophy."  
"For a pretty and mighty trophy," Samson said with a brotherly proud smile.  
"Do you honestly think either of them is _serious_ about marrying a sorceress?"  
"With enough wine and a few witnesses, you can pin them down on it."  
"I would rather remain untouched than marry a proud rooster who disowns my children for having magic in them."  
Alex pressed his lips together so as not to grin; Ariel was certainly no longer _untouched_ , the novices in the Halls of Shadows lived too freely for that.  
Steven sighed again. "I only have two daughters and I'm going to marry them off, so be good and cooperate. By the way, Robin Blackwood will also be competing in the tournament"- at this mention Ariel's eyebrow actually twitched up with interest- "and he will probably be accompanied by one of his sisters. Make friends with them, will you?"  
She nodded.  
"Ladies..."  
The queen, her daughter, stepdaughter and daughter-in-law left the room and Alex felt a fleeting touch of Ariel on his back as she passed him.  
When the heavy door was closed, Steven's face darkened.  
"Ariel's right," he turned to his bastard straightforwardly, "you're gonna keep your dick in your pants or I'll give you a chastity belt. And if there's the _slightest_ doubt in Lord Tristan's child after it's born, I'll castrate you myself."  
Christian nodded hurriedly; even a king could only screw around with impunity until a child was born. Steven's eyes twitched to Samson.  
"And you're finally fathering a child."  
Samson's jaw clenched and he lowered his gaze; Lorelei had already lost four children in five years of marriage and in Alex's eyes the little petite woman was simply not made to have children. Sebastian got the next cold look from grass-green eyes.  
"Make an effort the next time you meet your bride. Your generation is short of girls, and I'll be _displeased_ if you let her choose another prince."  
Sebastian nodded hurriedly.  
"What about the Blackwoods? They always have about a dozen princesses," Christian carefully threw in.  
"And Darkmoore has a completely different marriage policy," Steven replied. That's all he said, and Alex was happy about it. His twin sister might be a sorceress and accordingly he had grown up with magic, but he really didn't need a witch for a wife.  
"Behave yourselves!"  
With that the princes were thrown out and in front of the closed door of the royal study the four unequal brothers looked at each other for a moment. It was Sebastian who, muttering something about crests, was the first to leave. Samson watched him with a sigh.  
"Have you thought about having your own crest?" he asked Alex.  
"If father allows me..." Alex nodded and could not help but smile a hopeful smile, which Samson answered. He nodded thoughtfully and patted his little brother on the shoulder before leaving, ignoring the bastard. The bastard, however, objected to being ignored and walked down the hallway next to Alex as he too turned to leave.  
"Back to the barracks?"  
"Of course."  
"One would think you'd been banished from the castle," Christian mocked. Alex gave him a poisonous look.  
"I'm a squire. Of course I live in the barracks, not in the castle like a spoiled prince."  
"A squire, oh yes... No big celebration for your accolade and even enter the tournament as a squire..." Christian smirked.  
"We both know that I'm the better knight," Alex said controlled, although he would have loved to punch the bastard in the face. But since the false prince was turning 24 before the tournament, he was no longer considered a junior knight and Alex would not be able to compete against him. Christian laughed softly.  
"Of course, you are, Alex. No one will doubt your dignity if you come before the King in bright white."  
Before Alex could answer, Christian turned into another corridor and he clenched his hands into fists. Sure, there were enough squires every year who were deemed unworthy of knighthood because they had broken the rules or disregarded traditions once too often, but to be mocked for obedience and loyalty to the rules?  
Alex took a deep breath before he left.  
If one of the foreign knights accidentally killed Christian Appleberry at the tournament, he would be doing all of Whitehill a favor.

~

The rasping cough sounded cruelly tortured in Matt's ears, the terribly thin hand of his father, which he held, twitched under the coughing fit.  
"Boy..."  
Matt turned his gaze from the hand in his to the amber eyes which shone feverishly.  
"Boy, I'm sorry. Trust me."  
"There's nothing to be sorry about, father," Matt said, wringing a smile from himself. "It's not your fault you're sick."  
"This..." - another coughing fit, albeit shorter- "that's not what I mean. Joshua complained about you terribly last night."  
"What did I do wrong _this_ time? Light a candle?" Matt sighed and almost missed the weak grip of his fathers hand.  
"You questioned him."  
"Because I said that... never mind, Josh is crazy."  
A whistling giggle was the answer. "I guess you're right... and yet he will be king very soon." Jonathan Hazel, king of Threehills, was dying.  
"Alas," mumbled Matt.  
"Boy, the Great Mother gives and takes and it's not for us to question her."  
"It's enough for Josh to punish me for it, thank you, father."  
But Jonathan's quiet laughter turned into another violent coughing fit that shook his emaciated body. Only a few months ago the king had had the same broad shoulders over a stocky body as his youngest son, but there was no sign of either anymore. His hair was still raven black, but otherwise he looked as if he was thirty years older than his 55 winters.  
"Matt," Jonathan then gasped, "find yourself a bride and leave Seven Hills. The tournament..." - he gasped- "is a good opportunity." He patted his son's hand who sighed.  
"As if any of the noble ladies at the tournament were interested in something other than knights." And he wasn't one.  
"You don't have to be a knight to be skilled with a sword."  
"Father!" Matt blushed violently and Jonathan giggled.  
"Find yourself a pretty princess, I mean it."  
"My generation has- the crazy Blackwoods left aside- just four princesses, and one of them's a sorceress."  
"Yeah, yeah, and one of them's supposedly already engaged, so what?" Jonathan made a grimace and half choked on another coughing fit. "If you wanna avoid Joshua, marry a girl from another country."  
"You could make things a bit easier for me and just confirm me as a diplomat and send me somewhere," Matt gave back and although he didn't want to, he almost sounded pleading. His violent, paranoid brother was a bigger problem than finding himself a bride- only Jonathan had been turning a blind eye to the seriousness of the situation for many years. The fact that women were more important to him than most things- even before his wife had died- didn't make it any better.  
Jonathan nodded thoughtfully but avoided an answer when he had to cough again. Carefully, Matt put his hand on the blanket and reached for the vial of medicine instead. He poured a spoonful and handed it to his father, who sighed and swallowed the bitter liquid.  
"Thank you," he muttered.  
Matt nodded silently. "I'll see that they bring you another one."  
Jonathan nodded weakly and Matt left the bedside.

"Too bad he's not a knight." At Joshua's voice, Matt paused.  
"Why? A diplomat is more useful, especially _now_ after the war," Martin replied. The two voices came closer, would turn right around the corner, and Matt began to retreat.  
"Pah!" Joshua made. "So that with his golden tongue he could flatter all I have to work hard for?"  
Not for the first time cursing his stature, Matt slipped into an alcove behind a statue of the Great Mother and made himself small.  
"He's loyal to Threehills, Josh..." Martin tried to calm him down, but he and Matt both knew it was in vain.  
"Is that so?"  
"Yes, Josh, he _is_. He could make some really interesting contracts with Rockvalley or Whitehill-"  
Josh snorted. "The Oakshields will eat someone like him for breakfast."  
With Martin's sigh the two passed Matt's hiding place and he held his breath.  
"Still." said Martin.  
"Yes. Still... If he were a knight, a small accident might happen to him during the tournament..."  
Matt swallowed and pressed a hand over his mouth. It was not the first time he heard Josh say such things, but it scared him every time anew.  
"But he's not a knight. He was trained as a diplomat. So why don't you take advantage of it?", Martin tried again. He didn't do it out of love for his little brother, but out of pure self-protection; if Matt were out of the way, Josh's paranoia would turn to Martin, too.  
"As long as father lives, I have no other choice," Josh murmured and then their voices faded away.  
Matt allowed himself a shaky sigh and leaned his head against the cold stone wall in the alcove.  
Perhaps he should take matters into his own hands. Write a few letters. Turn the attendance to the tournament into a friendship visit or accompany one of the coastal princes home. Travel through the free lands.  
The three months until he and Martin would leave for Whitehill, he would survive.  
Carefully he stood up and thanked the statue of the Great Mother for her protection when he left the alcove. Her kind smile gave him a little confidence, but then he flinched violently.  
"MATTHEW!" That was Josh. "Matthew, get your ass over here! Someone in Whitehill thinks you're worthy of a message!"  
Maybe he would leave earlier. He threw a pleading glance at the statue, but the smile suddenly appeared mocking.


	2. A spring full of preparations

In admiration Sev stared at the beautiful white mare who danced a little nervously. She hadn't been off the ship long enough to calm down again, and the groom murmured soft words to her while he showed her to Sev.  
"Does she have a name?"  
"According to the breeding line, yes. But it's only used for paperwork." The man shrugged and Sev came closer, stroked slowly the almost silvery shimmering neck and then carefully the nose. The mare had a strange yellow-brown fur spot on her forehead, which ran as a fine stripe between the eyes and over the nose up to the nostrils. It reminded Sev a bit of a stray ray of sunshine breaking through the morning autumn fog.  
"Kyrie."  
"Pardon?", asked the stableman irritated.  
"That's elfish," Sev said softly and continued to caress the soft nose. "It can best be translated as _sunbeam_. _Ky_ is the word for sun."  
Kyrie snorted and the man was clever enough to stroke wordlessly across the strange strip of fur instead of waiting for an explanation.  
"So, my beauty... want to go for a run?" But she didn't seem really convinced.  
"We should allow the horses a little rest in the paddock before we impose man-made hectic on them again," the groom said calmly and Sev nodded in agreement.  
"Do you think I should wait with a ride until tomorrow?"  
"Well, she's quieter than most, but they're herd animals, so... let's give them fellowship."  
Sev nodded again. In a few years the man would rise to become stable master when the old one died, and Sev surrendered to the experience. He would still spend enough time with his horse.

Sev walked through the colony, which was called Argynn by the inhabitants- the official name in the imperial papers was much longer- and nodded greetings here and there. Workers dismantled the second palisade ring to use the trunks for the fourth ring, while the second ring was replaced by a stone wall. They were only a colony on foreign land and stone walls were forbidden to them, but Sev didn't care; he had to protect his people.  
Two small units of soldiers trained formations and the metal fittings on their shields flashed in the sunlight; a little further on, more soldiers were ready for a check. The sun was finally getting warmer and although the constant downpours were still freezing, it didn't freeze during the day anymore; the cold wind from the sea made Sev shudder anyway.  
"Severio!"  
Sev turned around. Lazio came running and bowed deeply. "Master, vicegerent Vibius wishes to speak with you."  
"Is it urgent?" Once again three ships had come and he wanted to at least show himself before the soldiers.  
"Well... _urgent_... um... Numos has finally found your armor." That was good news though, Sev had been waiting for his armor for weeks now. "And Vibius wants to present you," Lazio added.  
"Well, then perhaps I should put on the aforementioned armor first, shouldn't I?"  
Lazio nodded.  
"Go tell Vibius I'll send you to him when I'm done. And tell the stable to get Kyrie ready."  
"Yes, Master." Lazio hurried away and Sev allowed himself a sigh before he made his way through the colony back to his house.

The box with his armor had been placed in his study on the ground floor for simplicity's sake. Lazio had removed the lid and the top layer of the protective filling material to the side and Sev knelt down beside the box. His slender fingers stroked the red-gold toned greaves lying on top and lifted them out; the fastening straps were smooth and supple, the padding soft. He unpacked the bracers and shoulder pieces, took the round helmet with the wing-like cheek guards from a corner and stroked the fine leather of the two-piece weapon belt. Then there were the metal-fitted leather pieces worn on the thighs by the cavalry or mounted commanders, and Sev put them aside as well. He pushed more filling material aside and a smile crept across his face.  
Red and gold shimmered the breastplate, according to his rank resembling a male upper body and provided with defined muscles. His own body was perhaps half as pronounced, but what bothered him more was the fact that the breastplate would have to be adapted for combat - his upper body was considerably slimmer than the model for this armor.  
He pulled the breastplate out of the box and softly clinking the long loincloth and the sleeve pieces made of chain mail which had been lying in the large back piece slid into Sev's lap. For a moment he thought about calling Lazio, but then he decided that he could put the armour on by himself the first time.

With his right hand resting on his hip, his helmet clamped under his left arm, Sev looked at himself in the magically polished mirror plate. The ruffled mess of black curls disturbed the commander's picture a little, but he liked the feeling of the wind in his hair and he would have to take off the curls soon enough.  
"Master..." Lazio entered the bedroom and bowed, Sev's fiery red cloak in his hands. He nodded to the servant through the mirror and closed his eyes, had the cloak fastened to his shoulders with special buckles and, when Lazio was finished, still with his eyes closed, he put on his helmet. Curls instead of a padded cap were a little uncomfortable, but that didn't matter for the moment.  
His self-satisfied grin went out, however, when he looked in the mirror. The buckles on the cloak were black.  
"Lazio, get me new buckles!"  
"But, Master..."  
"Now!"  
"Of course, Master." Lazio scurried away and Sev gritted his teeth.  
His father mocked him. He got a white horse for a prince, red and gold armor for a prince- and black buckles for a bastard.

Kyrie danced a little and threw her head around. Sev allowed her some freedom and instead looked along the road that led up the cliffs and to the temple. The white temple was a small, almost miserable version of the great temples that every city in the empire had. But it was a consecrated place and Sev touched mouth and forehead with the index and middle finger of the left hand and then pointed in the direction where approximately the Empire must been lying. Out of the corner of his eye he saw vicegerent Vibius and General Tullius repeating the gesture on their horses.  
Vibius wore fine clothing under his thick cloak, Tullius was in polished armor. The silver steel sparkled in the sunlight and Sev was glad that his father had avoided nipples and navel on the breastplate for him. Even the fire-red bobbing feathers on the helmet didn't make Sev envy the General, maybe only the engravings on the arm and leg splints that showed Mars' drooling fighting dogs did.  
Lazio had found silver buckles for his cloak in time and it was now fluttering a bit when Sev, flanked by Vibius and Tullius, rode through the colony. Small units of soldiers stood to the left and right, with civilians squeezing in between. In front of the new barracks in the third palisade ring there was a large free space where they stopped. The soldiers marched up and, in almost perfect synchrony, slammed their heavy, large shields onto the ground.  
"Greetings, Severio Caesarion," shouted Arco, the commander of the legionnaires, who differed from them only by the distinctive breastplate. "Your legionaries are ready!" He saluted snappily and Sev also saluted.  
"Greetings, Commander." Then he nodded to the general, who pulled a scroll from a holder on his belt.  
"Hear the wishes of Emperor Fabianus Caesar, which for us, his servants, are a holy command!"  
Sev lifted his chin up and straightened his shoulders. Here in Argynn he represented the will of the Emperor, his father- bastard or not.

~

The Great Hall had turned into a carousel, but even if Matt had been drunk, he would not have given in to the illusion that this could be his birthday party. Joshua had deliberately chosen this day to announce the pregnancy of his wife Susanna. Accordingly, Matt got up early to leave.  
The throne at the royal table was empty and therefore he bowed well towards Josh, but he was engrossed in a vinous conversation with a Lord he had invited to the table. Matt bowed his head in Susanna's direction.  
"Congratulations," he said softly and forced himself to smile. Susanna was almost ten years younger than her husband and at barely seventeen she was almost still a child. And besides genuine affection on her part, Josh had to treat her well, for she was actually always cheerful and elated.  
"And congratulations to you, Matt. It's your birthday after all," she said and rose. Before he could retreat, she had already kissed him on the cheek.  
"Thank you," he muttered, struggling to keep the smile on his face for her. She sat down and he literally fled the hall.

Josh's conversation hadn't been as vinous as Matt had thought, for his voice and eyes were sharp. "Matthew..."  
Matt, his hand already at the door to his rooms, stopped. That Josh had left the hall was a very bad sign.  
"Get in," Josh ordered, and Matt entered his room, only to flinch as Josh slammed the door behind him. Two heartbeats later, he was dragged around by his shoulder and pressed against the wall, Josh using his forearm, skilfully balancing _'letting him breathe'_ and _'real threat'_.  
At first glance, Matt might seem physically superior to his brother, but there was a trained knight in that smaller wiry body and fighting back was unhealthy, as Matt knew from years of experience. Josh pulled Matt's narrow dagger from his belt and pressed the tip into the hollow between his collarbones.  
"Tell me, little brother..." Josh whispered then and his breath stinking of wine and onion roast hit Matt in the face, "does the thought turn you on?"  
Matt blinked without understanding. Slowly Josh cut through Matt's tunic, scratching the skin under it, the fine cuts burning terribly. The dagger tip was circling around Matt's abdomen.  
"Do you think about how her belly will swell up?"  
The dagger tip slid back up and Matt bit his lower lip as Josh drilled the tip into his nipple.  
"And her boobs? How the nipples grow big and dark?" Josh's face was a distorted grimace, his fingernails scratching across Matt's skin, boring into his chest, his fingertips pressing painfully between his ribs.  
"Do you imagine sucking her boobs and tasting the milk intended for _my son_?"  
"No, Josh!" Matt whispered and felt a drop of blood running down his skin. Josh obviously had some very strange ideas and Matt feared that there was some truth in the rumors that Josh had impregnated a servant and killed her and the child shortly after birth.  
"No?"  
"No, Josh," Matt repeated with a whisper.  
"Maybe it's the other way around," Josh mused, drawing new red lines across Matt's skin. "Maybe you like the idea of being filled with seed. The idea of your own belly and boobs swelling up..." Josh licked his lips.  
"No! No, Josh, no!" It wasn't the first time Matt was glad not to be a girl, otherwise Josh would probably have taken advantage of him long ago. And Josh probably didn't belong to the category _'crazy'_ anymore, that somehow helpless head-shaking _crazy_ , but Josh was probably really _sick_ in the mind.  
Something in the Crown Prince's head seemed to snap back into place, because he was leaning back.  
"Keep your hands off my wife," he hissed coldly and in a normal tone of voice. Before Matt could answer, he carelessly threw the dagger on the desk and left the room.  
Trembling, Matt took a breath and watched the damage to his skin. The nipple would heal fast and the rest were fortunately just scratches; he had seen far worse. The tunic, on the other hand, could not be saved and Matt took it off, wiped the little bit of blood from his chest with it and then threw the cloth into the extinguished fireplace.  
Bitter helplessness spread within him, which shrank to dull dejection when he discovered the letter on his desk. _Matthew Hazel_ stood on the front, with even more flourishes and ornamental dots than is common among nobles today. The light green wax seal on the back was something that Matt now knew well and he broke it without hesitation. The paper unfolded into a two-page letter, closely written in the clear and fortunately almost plain handwriting of Sebastian Appleberry. The magically trained messenger birds enabled relatively quick communication and the letters of the other prince illuminated Matt's gloomy everyday life.  
 _Matt, I hope the birdmaster and I haven't miscalculated and this letter will reach you in time. Happy birthday!_  
A smile crept up on Matt's face. It was sad, but Sebastian, whom he had never met in person, had been more thoughtful about his birthday than his own family. And then the letter slipped off his hands as the door was ripped open.  
"I forgot something," Josh explained, and as he approached, he pulled out his little magic knife, whose wounds _always_ left scars. He held Matt by his upper left arm and drew a vertical line on his shoulder blade, where there was a scarred tally sheet - now the twenty-second line was added. Matt endured it without a wail and was glad that Josh left immediately. He used to have to listen to suggestions about ' _bend over and drop your pants'_ , but he was too tall for that now.  
He glanced at the small statue of the Great Mother in a corner of the room and sighed softly. Maybe he should have listened to his uncle's advice and become a priest...

~

When the bells struck midnight, Alex stepped to the window of the squires' dormitory in the barracks and looked out into the night. His neck hair rose and goose bumps crept down his back - the blood moon had risen.  
Back then, on the night of his birth, the blood moon had also risen, and when it disappeared again two weeks later, his mother had died. The blood moon was a bad omen and no one could predict its appearance or, _if_ it appeared, how long it would stay. In the last twenty-one years the blood moon had appeared three times, and each time a fierce war had broken out in the Eastern Kingdoms, the last one not even finished for a year.  
Alex shuddered again, wondering to what extent the bad omen might also affect him. In a few hours he would be knighted, in two weeks the great summer tournament would begin. But his thoughts were interrupted by a soft groan and he turned around. His eyes searched in the darkness until they found a movement on Zachary's bed- the other squire jerked off. From the other side of the room came a similar sound, though more of a grunt. But Alex didn't have to look there first, he knew Owen's noises only too well after all these years.  
"You'd think a knight's hand would get chopped off if he pleased himself," William suddenly remarked next to Alex and he flinched.  
"Yes, indeed," he agreed anyway. Someone murmured softly due to the mumble and moaning.  
"Get finished!" Denver, who had the bed next to Owen, grumbled sullenly.  
Owen's answer consisted of chopped off sounds and then a sigh.  
"Finally..." someone muttered.  
"Get the fuck out to the chapel already," someone added.  
"Quiet, damn it!" someone else hissed.  
Alex smiled and William turned his face to a silent sigh.

The plain white clothes were uncomfortable and scratchy, the shoes a little too big; but Alex refused to flaunt the privileges of a prince and therefore wore clothes from the barracks' armory. Accordingly, he received an extremely critical glance from Ariel, who stood outside the door of the chapel and waited for him. The other six squires entered the chapel, muttering "Princess" as they passed by and kneeling on the prayer pillows.  
"I am proud of you," Ariel said softly and tugged at his tunic.  
"And I'm proud of _you_." He pushed a dark strand of hair under her now black cap. She smiled and pulled something from her sleeve.  
"I hope this does its job and keeps you safe." She carefully placed a fine gold chain around his neck with a pendant on it that looked like an ordinary coin, but when he squinted at it, the coinage was completely different. On one side was the stylised blossom of the Appleberrys, on the other a stylised flame.  
"Thank you," he said, not knowing what else to say, and smiled at her honestly.  
And then he got a kiss.  
Well, it wasn't a real kiss, it was just a fleeting touch that could have also touched the cheek, but he didn't like it, and neither liked Ariel's mocking intention behind it. Until two hundred years ago, mixed twins like them had been part of what Ariel called the religious _'junk'_. As a symbol of the Duality of Being, misused for ancient fertility rituals.  
But before he could complain, Ariel scurried away and when he finally entered the chapel with a sigh, his lips burned with shame. He knelt between William and Owen, bowed his head and folded his hands in prayer.  
They would sit here until dawn and remain in silence, then a priest would come and read to them from the sacred texts until they were called into the Great Hall.

To find the Great Hall empty, quiet and practically clean was almost as intimidating as the figure the king presented. He stood proudly upright, the ancient giant broadsword held in his folded hands, the heavy royal cloak around his shoulders and the matte gold crown with the sparkling emerald on his forehead. He looked like an all-powerful king from ancient tales.  
Flanked by two knights of the Kings Guard with their light green cloaks, he looked towards the seven squires. These seven had chosen a silent accolade, which meant that they would enter the tournament as squires, but even if they didn't earn their accolades there, they would start their service as knights afterwards. All other squires who tried their luck at the tournament and failed had to wait another year for their knighthood.

Alex and the others stopped. Knight Commander Robert stepped forward, slapped Devon in the face and then dragged him in front of the king as if he was going to be executed. Devon fell to his knees and lowered his head.  
"You have been found worthy to serve this kingdom as a knight," Steven said earnestly. "The Great Mother did not oppose this decision. And so, as King of this realm," he raised his sword, laid it gently on Devon's left and then right shoulder, "I raise you to the rank of knight." With a quiet click he put the tip of the sword back on the stone floor, then bent over and slapped Devon on the other cheek. "When the pain of this slap is gone, so will the last vestige of your childhood. Rise, Sir Devon of Whitehill."  
With all the excitement a little swaying Devon came to his feet and saluted.  
"My king." He hurriedly stepped aside.

Alex watched as William, Morgan, Zachary, Owen and Stanley also became knights, then he got his slap from the knight commander and was dragged forward.  
"You have been found worthy to serve this kingdom as a knight," Steven said in the same tone of voice as the previous times. "The Great Mother did not oppose this decision. And so, as King of this realm," he raised his sword, placing it first on Alex's left shoulder and then his right, "I raise you to the rank of knight."  
Which was basically silly, after all Alex was already a prince and therefore much higher in rank than a simple knight. And the slap that he now received was not the first one Steven gave him.  
"When the pain of this slap is gone, so will the last vestige of your childhood. Rise, Sir Alexander of Whitehill."  
With burning cheeks, Alex came to his feet, saluted and said tense:  
"My king."  
Steven nodded to him barely visibly and then he stepped aside to join the other unofficial junior knights. Robert motioned for the young men to follow him, but Alex remained standing as the two ceremonial knights disappeared through the side door- and Samson came in through it, a bulky, cloth-covered object in his hand.  
When there were only the three of them left, Steven scratched his crotch quite unabashedly.  
"I allow you to display your own crest, Alex. ...but not until after the tournament."  
"Of course." Alex nodded and Samson pulled the cloth aside. A stupid-happy grin flitted across Alex's face and he stroked the painted shield in awe. On the left side, there was the white stylized flower of the Appleberrys on a light green background, on the right side, a stylized silver flame blazed on a dark red background.  
"Thank you, father," he said softly.  
Steven nodded, his faint smile almost hidden by the finely trimmed beard, but for a moment a certain paternal pride glittered in his eyes and that was almost more precious to Alex than his new shield.


	3. First meetings

When Matt dismounted from his horse, he was sore all over. Riding was not necessarily his favorite activity, but sitting in a carriage like a small child or an old man? Thank you, no. Next to him, Martin also dismounted, and around him, their companions - a few knights, guards and two personal servants - did the same, more or less clinking. A good distance away there was a heavy clinking as well, because knights and squires were training there, but Matt only gave them a quick glance because someone stepped out of the castle portal - Crown Prince Samson. Matt recognized him, although they had hardly spoken to each other two years ago at the tournament in Sunplains.   
"Welcome to Feather Springs," Samson said as he approached, then held out his hand to Martin.   
"We've come in peace, and we'll keep the tournament peace," Martin replied a little stiffly and reached out. Samson nodded seriously, then smiled - an honest smile that made his grass-green eyes sparkle and the freckles dance on his cheekbones.   
"I'm glad you're here and we can put the war behind us."   
Martin grimaced a little. "Let's talk about war when we're in armor, okay?"   
Samson nodded, his lips twitched, then turned to Matt. "Matthew, isn't it?"   
"Right. Unlike Martin, I prefer talking without armor." Matt nodded and grabbed Samson's hand briefly, who laughed a little at this greeting.   
"I thought so." Matt had almost expected a little mockery, but there was none, just honest kindness.   
In the background, they took care of the horses and luggage.   
Samson nodded at Martin. "I suppose you'd like to freshen up a bit."   
"I would love to."   
"You may also ask the servants for a cold lunch, if necessary. Otherwise... enjoy the quiet days before the tournament."   
Martin tilted his head. "Thank you very much." Matt was already about to start moving, but then Samson half turned around and yelled in the direction of the training knights and squires:   
"Alexander!"   
Matt winced; this voice would certainly be audible from afar on a battlefield. From the group of squires, all of whom were barefoot and wearing only thin trousers and short-sleeved tunics, a tall young man broke away and approached them. His light-blond braid was soaked in sweat, the tunic stuck to his slender body; he moved like a predator. As he approached, Matt saw he had the same freckles as his brother, but Samson's face was much more angular, Alexander's fine features were almost feminine with his full lips.   
"Martin and Matthew Hazel, this is my youngest brother Alexander."   
"Martin, pleased to meet you," Martin said, holding out his hand. Alexander, however, bowed slightly and ignored the outstretched hand.   
"Welcome to Feather Springs," he said a little rough, then he gave Samson a look. He visibly suppressed a sigh, but nodded slightly and Alexander promptly turned around to return to training.   
"Not a man of many words, eh?" Martin asked with a raised brow, somewhat amused.   
"No." Now Samson did sigh. "Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one in the family who speaks more than ten sentences a day."   
Matt put on his friendliest diplomatic smile. "If you want to talk..." Samson understood the hint and indicated a nod, but said:   
"For now you can try to get more than five words in a row out of Sebastian. He probably went back to the library after lunch."   
"Thank you."

Washed, with a small meal in his stomach and fresh clothes on his body, Matt was putting his belt on when it knocked.   
"Come in."   
When there was no reaction, he frowned and opened the door himself. In front of it stood a thin young man with chestnut brown hair and a bunch of freckles on his pale face. His grass-green eyes were widened with nervousness and he kneaded his fingertips.   
"Sebastian," Matt said in surprise, because it seemed to him the only option.   
"Hello, Matt." Sebastian's cheeks got red spots. "I hope I'm not disturbing..."   
"No, I'm done and was about to-"   
"Remember the book you told me about in the last letter before you left?" Sebastian burst in.   
"Of course." Matt said, taken a little by surprise, and Sebastian's face suddenly glowed with enthusiasm.   
"I found a copy in the library and read it." As he brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, Matt noticed that pale spots of ink were sticking to his fingers. "I've marked a few passages I wanted to discuss with you."   
"Sure, I-"   
"I'm not sure if I should agree with Cresset entirely, but Stabbles has a few approaches I just can't go along with."   
Matt blinked and then an amused smile crept into his face. "Why don't we just go to the library and reread those passages together?" he suggested.   
Sebastian almost vibrated with excitement as he took two steps back so Matt could leave the room and close the door.

~

"Ariel, please, don't be ridiculous!" Annoyed, Alex stood in the entrance hall of the Hall of Shadows - the only area where visitors could enter - and looked at Ariel, who stood in front of him with her arms crossed. No less annoyed, she returned the look.   
"I'm not ridiculous! I just don't see the point in interrupting my studies unnecessarily."   
"I'm talking about dinner! Most of the nobles are already here and your seat is empty at every meal."   
"I don't give a shit about the nobility, unlike certain other things. I finally have access to the main library and-"   
"Ariel. Please. People are talking."   
"I don't care about that, Alex!" She emphasized every word. "I am a sorceress. Is anyone complaining because as a squire you live in the barracks?"   
"But I'm present at the meals during this time!"   
She glared at him, he glared back.   
"Please. For me," he finally said begging. She sighed deeply and then brushed across his tunic until she found the pendant she had given him.   
"I am with you, Alex."   
"But not physically."   
She sighed again and he turned his face into a sulk.   
"The day after tomorrow."   
He growled at her. "Either way, you have to be there the day after tomorrow if father's not to kill you."   
"See?" A fine smile crept onto her face and he rolled his eyes.   
"Sometimes I hate you."   
"I love you too."   
"That's not what I wanted to hear."   
Instead of an answer, he got a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the chest. "Be a good prince."

"And I'm telling you, she smiled at me," Nicholas said, and Arik snorted.   
"Of course. In your dreams."   
Alex just raised an eyebrow, he never interfered in such talks between Nicholas and Arik. Especially not when he unintentionally ran into the two of them and now had to stay with them because of the rules of decency and friendship from childhood days.   
"She smiled at me and she blushed," Nicholas repeated seriously.   
"Oho, so now she's blushed as well! Goodness, look at that. And when I hear the story tomorrow, she'll have invited you to her room," Arik mocked. Alex had no idea who they were talking about, but since a large group of nobles from Threehills and Rockvalley had arrived about two hours ago, there were several possibilities.   
The two befriended princes continued to bicker, apparently completely satisfied with Alex's mimic reactions, while they stood uninvolved in the entrance to the royal garden - in the shade, mind you - and enjoyed the light breeze blowing there.

"Ariel!" then both of them shouted out in sync, and Alex winced. Ariel, who just turned a corner, looked like she was going to turn around and run away. But instead, she put on a small smile at the sight of Alex.   
"Arik and Nicholas... good to see you."   
As if Nicholas had to take revenge for being named second, he pushed himself halfway past Arik and took Ariel's hand to breathe a kiss on the back of her hand.   
"It's a pleasure, dear friend."   
"Oh, cut the sweet talk, Nick, and find a woman you can seriously woo," Ariel muttered back. Alex smiled encouragingly to her from the background. Arik, who of course couldn't put on less show than Nicholas, took her hand as well.   
"You look even more adorable now that you're not wearing robes. The color suits you."   
"Thank you," Ariel said, not sounding half as annoyed as Alex expected. "Alex, I was actually going to-"   
"Would it be presumptuous to ask for a walk after dinner?" Nicholas said, knowing full well that this rather direct question only went through because they were actually old friends.   
"Yes, it would be presumptuous," Alex said admonishingly, but Arik already intervened:   
"Really, we haven't seen each other for a long time, we could all go for a walk together-" At that moment, Matthew turned a corner and Alex took his chance.   
"Matthew!" He raised his hand and waved him over. They had talked a few times during the last days and since the other two princes had only arrived in the morning - and Ariel was practically just arriving - he could introduce them directly to each other.   
"Alexander," Matthew said greeting, a reserved smile on his face.   
"Matthew Hazel of Threehills, may I present? My sister Ariel," Matthew bowed and she made a polite curtsy, "Prince Arik Redyew of Silvershore," a quick handshake, "and Prince Nicholas Elderblossom of Ringbay." Another quick handshake.   
"So you are Matthew," Ariel said, glancing briefly at the prince.   
"Yes, Princess." Matthew hinted at another bow and Alex could see a slight frown on Arik's face; obviously he didn't like the newcomer.   
"Sebastian told me about you," Ariel continued. "Or rather the books you talked about."   
Alex doubted it very much - Ariel and Sebastian had exchanged little more than greetings in the last few weeks, if at all. Matthew probably knew that too, but still he said:   
"Oh, I suppose he meant High Priest Emil's comparison of interpretations of the sacred texts over the centuries, didn't he?"   
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex watched amused as Nicholas' polite smile slipped a little.   
"No. Well, yes, he was talking about that too, but I was referring more to Priestess Elene's thoughts on the place of the magical in the priesthood." Ariel gave Alex a quick glance and dragged Matthew, who was making a remark about not having had time to reread certain passages, by the arm with him.   
"Surely, she does not intend to enter the convent?", Nicholas asked perplexed.   
"That would be tragic," Arik said, sounding genuinely upset. It was precisely this honest consternation that caused Alex to change the subject instead of fleeing himself.   
"What I consider much more tragic is the obvious deception of Lord Sandmoss."   
"Hmm?" Nicholas asked.   
"He spoke of having found a sand-colored stallion, but he rode in on a black one." Immediately Nicholas's interest was extinguished, although Alex only talked about horses so that he could get rid of Nicholas and for once talk to Arik alone.   
"Yes, but did you see the beauties of his sons? Like polished copper, I tell you!" Arik's eyes lit up and Nicholas sighed.   
"If you'll excuse me..."   
"Of course," Alex said, while Arik continued:   
"I think he bought some of the runners from Rockvalley."   
"Oh, really?" But the conversation died immediately when Nicholas was out of earshot.   
Arik sighed. "Please tell me she really doesn't want to join the convent."   
"So you're serious?" Alex hadn't expected such a direct statement about it, but Arik writhed a little uncomfortably.   
"Father wants me to marry Thalia Bluedrop. My only salvation is another lady's courtship."   
"You know your chances with Ariel are almost nonexistent..."   
Arik sighed again. "Don't try to sell Nathalie to me now."   
"I won't do that to you, my friend," Alex assured him and grinned, knowing full well that Nathalie liked Arik even less than Ariel did. "But there are so many young ladies here, and I'm sure you'll cut a fine figure on the tournament grounds."   
Arik grimaced and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, let's go and have some conversation. It'll be a long time before dinner."

~

Matt was aware of the fact that Ariel was only using him to get away from the other two princes, because Sebastian had mentioned his sister only once - namely when he had noticed that she rarely came to the castle and devoted herself faithfully to her studies in the Hall of Shadows. Appropriately, she also fell silent in the middle of the sentence when they had walked in the garden for a bit and were definitely out of earshot.   
Matt cleared his throat meaningfully.   
"Oh, please forgive me. I just can't stand those two right now." She seemed annoyed. He looked at her with a raised brow and noticed that she was extraordinarily pretty. Shiny chestnut brown hair like Sebastian, freckles and grass-green eyes like her brothers, finely cut features and full lips like Alexander.   
"Don't you think that was rather rude?" he finally asked cautiously.   
"Come on, they can both take it." She made a dismissive gesture and since Matt just had the opportunity to learn more about her, he took it.   
"I meant more to shamelessly kidnap me like that." They were still walking through the garden and would soon be out of sight. "And all this without a chaperone," he added earnestly.   
A giggle escaped her. "I have no chaperone and I don't need one." Suddenly her hair was adorned with colorful flowers and the ground beneath his feet trembled. "I can defend myself quite well."   
"That much is certain," he noted dryly and suddenly felt uncomfortable under her intensely scrutinizing gaze.   
"Has Sebastian made friends with you as he was told to?"   
"With all due respect, Sebastian is not someone who could build up and maintain a fake friendship," he replied, clasping his hands behind his back; this might give him an arrogant air, but he didn't know where to put his hands, because Ariel's gaze and her brisk nature made him a little nervous.   
"So you would call this friendship real?" she went on and he nodded.   
"I have found a best friend in the last few days, if I may say so."   
Half surprised, half amused, she pulled a face. "So he warned you about Nathalie too?"   
"He already did in a letter, yes." He nodded again and then put his head a little crooked. "What is this, Princess, an interrogation?"   
She blinked. "Oh, I just want to know who you are. Besides your name, I mean."   
"What for?"   
"Can't I be curious?" In her eyes sparkled the mischief and elicited a smile from him.   
"Well... I was trained as a diplomat and this visit is in a way my first mission. The tournament is an incredible opportunity to meet all sorts of nobles and make contacts. Something my father unfortunately didn't take too much care of."  
They had set back into motion and followed a narrow path made of pebbles winding around bushes and small herb beds.   
"So you don't fight with your sword, but with your tongue," she noted, and the answer got stuck in his throat when he saw her cheeky grin. With burning cheeks he cleared his throat.   
"The wording is perhaps a little unfortunate, but in a way, yes..."   
"Why is the wording unfortunate? _You_ simply interpreted inappropriate things into it," she replied, stroking a bush full of small pink flowers with one hand while looking at him out of the corner of her eye.   
"Your body language has already given your words some meaning, Princess." His education had not prepared him for such a situation, for every normal unmarried princess usually had a chaperone who, depending on her personal attitude, already punished glances, not to mention such verbiage. Obviously there was a lot not normal about Ariel, because she tilted her head and asked:   
"What does my body language say, dear Prince Matthew?" She sounded overly innocent.   
"You're playing with me," he replied and she laughed softly.   
"You're letting me play with you." She had a point. In fact, he shouldn't have gone for a walk with her at all, and he didn't have to answer to her ambiguous wording. He cleared his throat embarrassed, caught, and was about to say something when he closed his mouth again because he noticed that they were standing in front of a Sacred Grove.   
After minimal hesitation, he stepped in front of the statue of the Great Mother placed in the middle of the grove and knelt down for a moment. When he rose again and gave the statue another nod out of habit, Ariel behind him asked quietly and strangely respectfully:   
"How devout are you?"   
He turned to her and gave her a wry smile. "Well, obviously not devout enough to become a priest."   
"Obviously." With a sudden mocking smile, she nodded.   
"But more devout than most, I guess," he added to answer her real question. After a further shrug, he clasped his hands behind his back again. "My mother died when I was very young, and in my childish imagination she became one with the Great Mother." Why would he even tell her that? But she nodded seriously.   
"I promise I won't provoke you into any theological arguments." This already revealed enough about her own piety and he raised an eyebrow.   
"Oh, and why not? It might be interesting."   
"I do not wish to appear disrespectful."   
Now his other brow moved up, too, but before he could say anything, she sighed.   
"Yeah, well, respect is not my strongest suit." The suspicion had already crept upon him, but he nodded.   
"Good to know."   
Immediately she smiled again and stepped up to the sacred apple tree, whose bark she stroked until two bright red apples had ripened almost right in front of Matt's nose, which she picked.   
"No one should be able to say I am a bad hostess," she said mockingly and offered him one.   
"Thank you," he said amused, grabbed it and walked over to the hazel bush, and stroked along a twig until a bundle of three hazelnuts sat at its tip. He plucked them and held them out to Ariel. "I don't want anyone to think I'm an ungrateful guest."   
"Oh", graciously she accepted the hazelnuts, "do I now have three wishes with you, like the princess in the fairy tale?" She tried to look innocent, but her lips twitched treacherously; he had a feeling of future awkwardness and embarrassment.   
"If you consider that I am only human, then yes."   
With a badly suppressed giggle she put the hazelnuts into the pouch that she wore on her belt and then took a hearty bite of her apple.   
"Would you like to tell me about your previous successes in diplomacy?" she asked, chewing. He had already spoken to her brother Samson a few times, but actually there wasn't much to tell - he did it anyway.

It was only after he had finished his apple that he noticed that Ariel had not touched her apple except for the initial bite and instead was staring at him.   
"Um...", he made insecure.   
"You are amazing," she said, shaking her head.   
"Because...?"   
"You could have just told me the grass was pink and I would have believed you."   
"Oh." Suddenly he had to smile. "I'm sorry, Princess, but that's my job. To make other people think I said _yes_ when I said _no_." She looked at him critically, but first threw her apple into the bushes before she asked:   
"And you are sure that you have no magical talent?"   
He laughed softly and also threw away the core; the apple had been perfect to his personal taste.   
"If I do, I don't know about it." Half the truth was better then a lie. She examined him thoroughly.   
"May I touch you?" Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and she hurriedly added: "Magical, I mean."   
"Oh... yeah..." Her magic felt like a soft warm cloth and he had to force himself not to close his eyes, because the touch was sensual and intimate in a disturbing way. However, her gaze was exceedingly thoughtful.   
"Your body remembers more broken bones and injuries than my brother's. And he has been fighting since he was old enough to hold a toy sword."   
"You are a healer?" he asked in surprise.   
"No. Not everyone who uses earth magic can heal. My abilities in this regard are limited to myself and my twin."   
He nodded for simplicity's sake, but she still looked at him with a frown. Discomfort rose in him and he licked his lips; her magic was gone, but some of his scars still tickled. And he almost flinched as she reached out and touched him with her fingertips on his left upper arm.   
"If you were as thin as Sebastian, you could feel that the bone here hadn't grown back together properly after a fracture. Maybe you would even see it."   
Involuntarily he took a step back. "I have two older brothers." She remained silent for a moment, then bowed her head in greeting.   
"We shall continue this conversation soon," she said surprisingly formally and left him standing there.

~

Sev's anger that they reached Feather Springs much later than he had planned faded away when they rode through the city and up to the castle. It was wider and higher than the castle in Crown's Port, the capital of Silvershore, and had a certain aesthetic appeal. He had learnt that at the royal castle beside the crest of the royal family always hung the crests of the nobles who currently resided there, and it took him a moment to realize that for the sake of the quantity, they had limited themselves to the crests of the seven royal houses. Sev knew the seven double flags, each showing the crest of the country next to the crest of the royal family - he had memorized them, although the concept of crests was still foreign to him. There was no such thing in the empire.  
And in general everything here was terribly colorful. When Sev and his small troop of five legionaries and three servants rode into the courtyard of the castle, there was a colorful chaos. Knights and squires who were training, servants who were unloading carts, a few noblemen who apparently wanted to go for a ride.   
Overwhelmed, Sev remained sitting on Kyrie and looked over the chaos until he noticed a man in light green hurrying towards him.   
"Excuse me, sir, you wouldn't happen to be from the imperial colony?"   
"I am," Sev replied and slipped out of Kyrie's saddle. "Severio fil-Vibius, son of the vicegerent, and my men." He didn't necessarily want to rub everyone's nose in who he was- even if he doubted that there was great interest in an emperor so far away, but it would have only drawn unnecessary attention to him.   
"Lester, steward," the man said, nodding seriously. "I'm afraid we've received no word as to how many people your party will have and how many participants in the tournament we should register." He spoke clearly, albeit a little fast.   
"I beg your pardon, I didn't realize another reply was necessary after I-"   
"Yes, yes, all right. How many people and how many knights?" Lester interrupted him and briefly inspected Sev's birthmark.   
"Nine persons. Six knights," Sev replied curtly and a little offended.   
"All men?"   
"Yes."   
"Good, good. There are guest rooms in the barracks for free knights, you can get a guest room in the castle."   
"I'd rather stay with my men, if you don't mind."   
"Sure." Lester shrugged and flicked, whereupon a lanky boy, whom Sev hadn't noticed before, approached. The steward muttered something to him and the boy nodded.   
"Of course, my Lord. Sir, if you will follow me, your horses can be taken care of and I will accompany you to your quarters." The boy's voice broke twice; Sev nodded at him.   
"Please, go ahead."

Washed and in clean clothes, Sev stepped a little later out into one of the barracks' practice yards. Only a few steps away, two men in chain mail fought with each other, watched by a third, who didn't really look like a fighter. The two were good, Sev thought, agile and precise.   
"Don't overdo it, Martin," said the observer just at the moment when one of the practice swords slammed fiercely into the shield of the other knight. Both made a strange gesture, probably to stop the fight, and stepped back.   
"I'm not overdoing it," said the man, who was apparently Martin, strained. "At home, I train every day, too."   
"Yes, but if you get an injury now, you'll look old in the tournament."   
"If that's what it's all about, I might fall out of bed tonight in a nightmare." Martin half turned around and Sev saw him rolling his eyes. Amber eyes.   
Between Sev's shoulder blades it started to tingle and instinctively he pulled his shoulders up. Those eyes were supposed to remind him of something, but he couldn't figure it out.   
Martin noticed his look and frowned in his direction, but turned back again when his companion said:   
"For today you should let it go anyway."   
Sev faded out the conversation and turned away; the many different dialects around him that he heard caused him headaches. The language he had learned was probably a standardized version, which was rough and choppy on the coast; Martin and his companion had pronounced the words strangely soft and stretched.

He strolled across the courtyard, observed the various knights and squires and finally stepped through a side gate. The small courtyard behind it was the scene of a water brawl between younger squires who were simply running around in thin trousers or loincloths, scooping water from buckets and tubs with flat bowls and hurling it at each other.   
Stunned, Sev watched the scene for a moment, whose cheerful exuberance was a strange contrast to the others who were training seriously. And then seven young men stepped out of an inconspicuous door of the side building of the barracks to which the courtyard belonged. One of them, an almost dainty fellow with long black hair, complained:   
"You started without us."   
The younger boys paused.   
"Do we give them a beating?" asked a redhead.   
"We're gonna get you!" promised one of the boys, who seemed particularly young.   
"Well, we'll see about that," said a sturdy newcomer.   
"They outnumber us almost three to one," said one with brown hair critically. The only blond young guy snorted in amusement.   
"You want to be a knight and you can't even handle a bunch of squires, Will? Shame on you."   
The boys laughed and then, on a command unseen by Sev, the chaos broke out again. The blond man attracted Sev's attention, slim and muscular, with smooth movements. The redhead shouted orders as if it was a battle of life and death, but Sev's amusement disappeared abruptly when the blond guy called back something over the happy screeching. His voice was deeper than at the previous remark and again there was a tingling between Sev's shoulder blades.   
Something was not right here, but he didn't get it.

The Great Hall impressed Sev, even if in a rather unpleasant way. Filled with tables and people, full of the smell of food, sweat and perfume. Eating noises, clatter and laughter, a babble of voices of the same kind. As a precaution, he asked right at the entrance if there was any seating arrangement, but the servant shook his head.   
"Usually not. If there was, you would be shown to your seat, sir."   
So Sev walked through the hall, dodging servants with dirty dishes or plates full of food until he found an empty seat - surprisingly close to the royal table. Sev pulled back the simple chair and almost sat down next to it when his opposite, a young man with broad shoulders and short black hair, raised his eyes.   
Amber eyes, eerily yellow, shone towards him.   
Sev let himself fall on the chair and because his hands were suddenly shaking, he clenched them briefly into fists.   
"Is everything alright? You look as if you've seen a spirit," the young man spoke to him and immediately goose bumps shot over Sev's body. That bright, almost boyish voice, which spoke of spirits...   
"Excuse me?"   
"You look as if something had frightened you terribly," said the man now more slowly, obviously trying to push his dialect aside; Sev suspected that Martin, the other man with the amber eyes and the same dialect, was related to this one.   
"Oh, well...", Sev began cautiously, not knowing what to say. A servant approached him and poured something into the clay cup that stood next to his wooden plate. "Thank you," he muttered and the young man in front of him tilted his head a little, a tiny amused smile playing around his lips. He reached for his own cup and took a sip.   
"May I ask who you are?" he asked as he put the cup down again. Sev hadn't moved a bit yet, but changed that now when a half-empty plate with roast was pushed from the left side - he grabbed it.   
"Severio fil-Vibius, son of the vicegerent of the imperial colony," he answered and bowed his head greeting.   
"Matthew Hazel, Prince of Threehills," the young man replied. Threehills lay north of here, Sev remembered. Matthew's gaze wandered briefly over Sev's birthmark, but he didn't comment, instead he asked, while Sev took the first bite of the pork roast:  
"Will you be competing in the tournament?"   
Sev nodded with a full mouth and washed the meat down with a gulp. Apparently, he grimaced a little, because Matthew was really amused now.   
"Beer."   
"I know. But it's a lot better than what they're selling us in Silvershore."   
Now the prince was smiling. "The coastal regions are not exactly known for their beverages... and Whitehill actually makes really good beer. If you prefer wine, go to Sunplains."   
"Thanks for the advice", Sev said a little surprised, he actually preferred wine. "Will you be competing in the tournament?" he asked, as a courtesy.   
Matthew shook his head as he shoved what looked like fried vegetables into his mouth.   
"You look like a warrior," Sev said and got a shrug in return.   
"You don't. And yet you will compete." He was quite right.   
"Please forgive me," Sev murmured and Matthew said explaining:   
"I am a man of words. A diplomat."   
"Oh." An amber-eyed diplomat who talked about spirits - marvelous.   
"Are you familiar with the rules of the Eastern Kingdoms?"   
"If you ask like that, I guess not."   
Matthew chuckled. "Probably not. For my part, I don't hold grudges, but try to be polite and use the proper form of address. Some of the lords and ladies insist on being called by name." Sev had already feared something like this, but during the few visits to Crown's Port his foreign manners had always been sufficient.   
"What is the correct form of address for you?" he asked cautiously, for Matthew had introduced himself as Prince.   
"Are you a nobleman?" Matthew asked back and following his lie, Sev shook his head. "Then it would be _Your Highness_. Since I'm only a guest here myself, _Prince Matthew_ will do."   
"I beg your pardon if I have offended you, Prince Matthew," Sev said immediately and pointedly formal. The Prince bowed his head, smiling amusedly again.   
"Have you met our hosts yet?"   
"No."   
Matthew nodded his chin towards the royal table and Sev turned his head. The blond young man, who had attracted his gaze on the training yard earlier, sat on the far right of the table, and Sev swallowed when the tingling crawled across his back again. The squire with the deep voice was a prince - Fortuna was obviously not on his side.   
"On the far left is Prince Sebastian," Matthew said and Sev looked to the other end of the table. The boy with the dark hair looked unhealthily thin. "Next to him we have Princess Nathalie," a girl with hazel hair, who had an irritating golden-blond strand on her right temple, "and Queen Nadira, the second wife of King Steven. Be careful when you talk about her, she's only the mother of Princess Nathalie and the others are a bit sensitive about it," Matthew warned Sev and he nodded quickly. The Queen herself looked quite young and her hair had the same hazelnut color as her daughters'. The King was golden blond, with a slightly darker beard, just like the young man next to him.   
"Crown Prince Samson and his wife, Princess Lorelei. Next to them, the twins, Princess Ariel and Prince Alexander." Lorelei was an inconspicuous, fragile-looking woman who almost disappeared next to Ariel, who had a strange but strong charisma. Alexander tilted his head towards Ariel as she said something and a grin crept onto his face. As he moved, a chain shimmered up in the low neckline of his tunic and Sev wondered what kind of jewelry the men here might be wearing.   
"You should stop staring." At Matthew's remark Sev broke his gaze and when he saw the slightly mocking smile of his opposite he blushed.   
"I won't even ask who has taken a shine to you," Matthew declared with a smile and Sev actually felt warm. Only then did he understand that the prince probably meant Ariel. He cleared his throat, but avoided an answer when suddenly Sebastian dropped on the now empty seat next to Sev.   
"Seb," Matthew said in surprise. "We were supposed to meet later in the library."   
Sebastian's initial grin went out. "Oh, excuse me, I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation..."   
"No, it's okay..."   
Sev also shook his head with a cautious smile.   
"I found the scroll!" Sebastian whispered conspiratorially and full of enthusiasm. Matthew's eyes lit up, but then his gaze flickered to Sev.   
"It was a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Severio. Now, if you'll excuse me..."   
"Yes, of course...", Sev replied, aware that this was not an appropriate answer, but something was suddenly different. Matthew and Sebastian got up and walked away, Sev watched them leave. Sebastian was probably older than he looked, and Matthew actually didn't move like a warrior would, but still there was something dangerous about him, now that his subliminal amusement had disappeared. Sev rolled his shoulders to dispel the discomfort.   
Magic was in the air. And the Empire hated magic.


	4. Revelations

"Oh, no, I wouldn't say that. But the width of the blade-"   
"Lord Hazel, a message for you." Martin's lively discussion with Nicholas- was it necessary to talk about murder weapons at breakfast?- was interrupted by a servant who held a piece of paper out to Martin. Matt frowned a little because the title of Lord Hazel belonged to Josh.   
"Thank you," Martin said gracefully and unfolded the message, only to promptly frown.   
"What does it say?", Matt asked with carefully hidden curiosity.   
"You've obviously made an impression," Martin said and handed him the message. "And all this without swinging a sword." The ambiguous eyebrow twitching and the tone of voice Martin used reminded Matt horribly of Josh and promptly he was speechless. With the familiar feeling of helpless rage in his stomach, he watched as Martin stood and nodded to Nicholas.   
"See you at the tournament site."   
Nicholas nodded back and looked at Matt scrutinizing, but he finally lowered his eyes to the message.   
To his surprise, it was an invitation to the royal balcony of the grandstand, signed by Sebastian, Ariel and even Alexander, but according to Martin's remark, it had a bitter taste.   
"Are you all right?" Nicholas asked, surprisingly gentle. Matt looked up and Nicholas smiled crookedly.   
"Yes," he said succinctly, but then held the news over to Nicholas, who read and grinned.   
"If you've had the slightest interest in the tournament, you won't hear about it today. Once Sebastian and Ariel have got you into a discussion, that's it." And then he added: "Is Martin jealous?"   
Matt shrugged. "I doubt it."   
Nicholas' grin went out. "He enjoys that sort of remark, doesn't he?"   
Matt had no immediate answer and Nicholas pulled up the half-length sleeve of his dark blue tunic- an ugly old scar decorated his right upper arm.   
"A lifelong memory of the day my brother received his first dagger."   
Matt licked his lips uncomfortably. "Martin just talks. Joshua's the one who..."   
Nicholas nodded and tousled his dirty blond hair. "If... if you want, you can come with me to Ringbay. As a diplomat, as a friend, whatever you like."   
Stunned, Matt looked at him. "That... is a very interesting offer," he said, trying to work up a smile. Nicholas smiled back.   
"I'll see you later. I've got to give Arik a bit of a fright, he's already fighting today." With a wink, Nicholas was the dandy prince again and literally bounced away through the Great Hall.  
  


The way from the castle to the tournament site was made either on foot, in open carriages or on horseback. Matt decided to walk and strolled along the path marked by colorful ribbons, overtook and was overtaken, looked around and compared with what he had seen two years ago.   
There was an area where visitors could set up their tents, an area for merchants who sold everything from food and drink to lucky charms, jewelry and trinkets, and an area where the knights prepared themselves.   
And in the middle: the great arena. Partly made of stone, partly of wood, it rose far above all the stalls and tents and was adorned all over with banners. He found a few he knew in the colorful chaos, but there were so many that he quickly lost track. And because he didn't know what else to do, he went to the entrance of the royal balcony.   
A guard stopped him and looked at the invitation, then a heavy curtain was pulled aside and he climbed up a staircase.   
"Matt!", Sebastian called happily, and Matt smiled at him broadly.   
"Good morning, Sebastian," he said politely, and then indicated a bow to King Steven and Queen Nadira, who both nodded back but paid no further attention to him, turning back to their own guest - a lord whom Matt did not know. Sebastian wore green, as did Steven and Nadira, and hurried towards Matt.   
"As a host, I must be present," he muttered sullenly. "But thanks to the Great Mother, at least you are here today."   
"Aren't you the least bit interested in how your brothers are doing?" Matt teased him and he sighed.   
"The only interesting fight would be Alex versus Christian, but Christian isn't a junior knight anymore... so no, I'm not the least bit interested."   
Matt grinned and patted him on the shoulder. "Come on, watch this excessive male swank- you'll appreciate your library even more afterwards."   
"The way you look, you'd think you'd put on your armor at any moment and join the _excessive male swank_ ," Ariel suddenly sounded behind them before Sebastian had a chance to answer. Matt half turned to her.   
"Broad shoulders don't make a knight yet, Princess."   
Yesterday she had worn warm reddish-brown tones that underlined her hair color, today she wore a dark green dress with a light green overdress that highlighted her eyes and made them shimmer. She smiled mockingly at him.   
"What a pity." So she nodded at him, touched Sebastian on the shoulder in greeting and then joined her father. Matt blinked in amazement, then turned back to Sebastian.   
"A crown of maidens with ribbons? I didn't think your father would put her on display like _that_."   
Sebastian shrugged. "Father knows what he risks. She has already threatened several times to join the convent if he puts a man before her who displeases her."   
"And she'd go through with it?"   
"Definitely."   
Impressed, Matt glanced over at her, but then Samson, Lorelei and Nathalie reached the balcony and more polite greetings were exchanged before they took their seats.

Two years ago in Sunplains, the opening ceremony had been a colorful whirlwind of jugglers and musicians, in keeping with the sunny disposition of the country; in Whitehill, the whole thing was accordingly of rather stiff pomp. Seven squires carried the double banners of the Eastern Kingdoms into the arena under booming fanfares- Alexander carried the ones of Whitehill, as Matt noticed- and positioned themselves precisely before King Steven received a small ball from a wizard, who kept absolutely inconspicuously in the background, and gave a welcoming speech with a magically amplified voice.   
Matt would have loved to listen, but to his left Ariel and Nathalie hissed at each other- he heard his name and guessed it was because Nathalie wouldn't look at him, although Steven wanted Matt and Nathalie to marry. He wasn't a knight and according to Alexander knights were the only thing Nathalie had in mind at the moment. And on his right, Samson whispered angrily to Sebastian:   
"You should have invited Gudrun!"   
"Father will announce our engagement tonight after all, so why-"   
"It would have been a sign, a gesture of courtesy and respect!"   
"To invite someone with whom you were at war until recently is also an important sign," Sebastian murmured back and sounded a little uncomfortable about the scolding. Samson grumbled an answer that Matt didn't understand, but at least Sebastian was not completely wrong. However, both could have been invited...

When the arena herald called out Alexander's name for one of the next fights, Ariel and Matt- after all, his invitation had been signed by the prince- rose and stepped up to the railing of the grandstand. As she leaned against it and caressed the wood with her fingertips, Matt clasped his hands behind his back; hesitantly, Sebastian stepped to his other side.   
"Do you know how to use a sword?", Ariel asked casually as the five pairs of fighters entered below.   
"I know which end to hold," Matt replied just as casually, watching as the squires and junior knights put on their helmets- wearing a helmet outside the fight was an insult. "But an armed diplomat is quite a contrast, and I am quite content with my dagger." When Ariel's eyes turned to him and then wandered down on him, he blushed violently.   
"Oh," she finally said when she looked into his eyes again. He cleared his throat and turned back to the arena.   
"A princess should not make such ambiguous remarks," he murmured to her.   
"A diplomat should always expect such remarks. And know how to deal with them," she replied, her eyes fixed on her fighting brother.   
Matt wasn't sure if he liked this conversation, so he looked for an answer that would put it back on safe topics- Great Mother, Sebastian was standing right next to him after all- but Ariel already added, amused:   
"Rest assured there will be a great deal of diplomacy between the sheets over the next few days."   
"I'm not sure if you can really call it diplomacy," he returned cautiously.   
"And yet, it might possibly lead to interesting alliances."   
"So bastards are interesting alliances?"   
"Oh, well, bastards are more likely to cause embarrassing fights, but who said anything about bastards?"   
"Then what are you talking about?"   
"You're amazing, Matthew, but you're not a diplomat when you have to ask questions like that." With a wink she turned around and went back to her seat.   
"Amazing," Matt muttered, honestly confused by this conversation, and flinched when Sebastian softly said:   
"At least she's right."   
"With what?"   
"You're amazing."   
Matt frowned, but preferred to keep his eyes on the arena rather than turn around to look after Ariel. "Amazingly bad as a diplomat, I suppose, getting involved and confused in these kinds of conversations."   
"Would it cheer you up if I told you I found that book of poems by Patrick the Handsome that Hobbins refers to?"   
Matt refrained from pointing out to Sebastian that the poems in question were of an extremely juicy nature, and instead nodded silently.

~

Sev would have loved to take a warm bath to relax, but the communal baths which were everywhere in the Empire were missing in the Eastern Kingdoms. An improvement which he would only too gladly address. Instead, he stood in a cool washroom, where everyone could get cold water from small pumps, and froze despite the summer heat. Several knights had spread out in the large room, but apart from the splashing of water, it was pleasantly quiet.  
Which changed abruptly when a group of young men came in, babbling loudly and analyzing their tournament fights. Sev looked up- one of them was Alexander, the prince, and when he looked at the others he realized that it was the same group he had seen playing with the younger squires before.   
"Come on, Alex, you really embarrassed that lord from Sunplains!"   
Alex, who had placed his wash bowl relatively close to Sev, sighed. "I know, but this isn't about embarrassing anyone, Morgan."   
Morgan, the guy with the long black hair, stuck his tongue out at Alex. "Are you worried about dear diplomacy?"   
"Diplomacy can kiss my ass. That's what people like Matthew Hazel are for," Alex returned, Sev listened up.   
"But he isn't an Appleberry," replied the young man whom Alex had addressed as Will the day before.   
"So what? He was supposed to make eyes at Nathalie, wasn't he?', the redhead asked with a shrug.   
"And you don't have eyes in your head, Owen," another mocked.   
"Oh, and why not, Zack?" asked Owen, mimicking his mocking tone.   
"Because he was making eyes at Ariel," Zack shouted amusedly. Sev smiled, because he remembered Matthew's remark from the night before. Alex gave an answer that made the others laugh, but Sev didn't quite catch it because he was busy staring at Alex's ass when he half turned around. Then Morgan started singing a dirty song and Owen and a third one joined in while Alex and Will protested.   
"If you're going to torture us with your voice, Devon, at least sing something good," Zack said pleadingly.   
" _Ten flowers I will bring to you, ten flowers for ten days_ ," Alex started slowly and Sev got goose bumps, parts of him melted away at his voice, " _Ten flowers I will bring to you, nine will wilt, one will not_."   
"Oh, Great Mother, please not the Ballad of Courtship," Owen moaned.   
" _Ten dances I will dance with you, ten dances for ten days_ ," Alex continued, this time accompanied by Will and Zack, but he broke off when a wet washcloth sailed through the air, grazed him at the shoulder, and fell at Sev's feet.   
"If you start this damn ballad now, we'll still be standing here in ten days!" Devon protested. Alex bent swinging down for the cloth, gave Sev an apologetic look and threw the cloth back. Seconds later, the next rag came flying and hit Sev right in the chest, but this time he threw it back himself and hit Morgan in the face.   
"Good throw," Alex noticed and grinned at him.   
"Thank you." Sev grinned back- and was heartbeats later in the middle of the turmoil.  
"I apologize formally for this improper behavior", Alex said heavily breathing after a very slippery and wet water fight to Sev, who giggled breathlessly.   
"Oh, no. It's worse in our barracks."   
Alex grinned because he probably thought it was a well-intentioned joke, but Sev was serious. In an imperial barracks there would have been at least three couples in the meantime relaxing in a more physical way. Sev brushed the wet curls from his forehead and left the washroom after a last look at Alex' muscular chest - he desperately needed some time for himself...

Sev sighed in relief as he stepped into the shadow of the nobility grandstand; the sun was burning relentlessly even early in the morning today. With the eyes he searched for a familiar face and quickly found it: Matthew sat with two men and talked.   
"Please forgive me, Prince Matthew, but may I join you?" he asked cautiously when he had reached the three. They looked up at him and Sev recognized the crest of the two, the five circularly arranged sand-colored flowers on a dark green background: Sandmoss. He had lost yesterday against Henry Sandmoss.   
"Oh, of course. Sit down. Lord Sandmoss, Geoffrey, this is Severio fil-Vibius, vicegerent of the imperial colony." Sev got a wink, which made his polite smile real.   
"Delighted," he said at the same time as Lord Sandmoss, and Geoffrey remarked:   
"You did quite well against Henry yesterday."   
"Thanks, but I still lost," Sev replied politely and sat down.   
"Never mind, my boy has won the last two tournaments and wants to win this one too." Lord Sandmoss smiled compassionately and Matthew laughed softly.   
"There's a difference between _wanting_ and _doing_."   
"Forsooth, Your Highness, forsooth." The Lord nodded, added a greeting nod to Sev, and then left the two to their conversation.   
"Questions about courtly etiquette?", Matthew then asked Sev with a smile, who raised an eyebrow in surprise.   
"Can you read minds?"   
"Fortunately not, no."   
"Fortunately?"   
"I really don't want to know what's going on in the minds of some people," the Prince replied honestly and Sev blinked before he said:   
"But yes, I would like to ask you something."   
"Always out with it."   
"What's with all these crests?"   
Now it was up to Matthew to blink in surprise. "Well, they are a symbol of the noble families, they refer to the name or their land holdings. At times like this, the crests on the shields make it easy to identify the knights."   
That somehow made sense, but when Sev thought of the chaos that decorated the arena, he got dizzy.   
"Is there no such thing in the Empire?"   
"No. The empire is symbolized by a golden eagle on a red background, the imperial house itself by the crowned eagle." Sev shrugged.   
"That... sounds pretty monotonous."   
"I find it pretty chaotic here," Sev returned and Matthew nodded smiling.   
"A little."   
"I suppose this red stripe on some crests has a special meaning too?"   
"This is the bastard strip. If they are recognized, they may only wear the family crest with this restriction and may not pass it on to their children," Matthew explained seriously.   
"Oh.", Sev made surprised. "So bastards aren't very popular here?"   
"Not really," Matthew confirmed with a crooked nod; if it had been different, it would have really surprised Sev. "Are they for you?"   
"Not really. But those who would be affected by a bastard usually have concubines or same-sex pleasure slaves anyway."   
Matthew's stunned face told Sev that these were also unknown things here. The prince cleared his throat.   
"You might want to keep this to yourself. The Eastern Kingdoms follow the Great Mother and her principle of the Duality of Being. Same-sex relations are a sin and with your attitude, you may be branded a heretic before you know it."   
"Oh.", Sev did again and noticed too late that this short exclamation sounded much more consternated than was good. While his idea of a flirt with Alex dissipated into thin air, Matthew looked at him critically, but fortunately said nothing. Instead, he skillfully changed the subject.

~

Markus, the old librarian, nodded politely at Alex.   
"Are you looking for your brother?"   
Alex nodded and rubbed his nose, the smell of old books, dust and dried herbs was unpleasant.   
"Sebastian is sitting in his favorite corner with Prince Matthew."   
What else? Alex nodded again and walked along the rows of shelves until he heard Matthew's bright voice.   
" _...and your eyes shine like stars, like two blazing suns..._ "   
Sebastian giggled and Alex frowned.   
"Really? First, why are breasts called eyes? Second, why do they have to be compared to stars as well? Breasts sag at some point and a falling star is, I think, rather unpleasant for the world."   
Sebastian giggled even more and Alex wondered for a moment if maybe the two of them had drunk a little too much. Nevertheless, instead of stepping directly around the last shelf, he hesitated to give Sebastian a message from his fiancée, which Alex had unfortunately run into. Sebastian chuckled and now read something out loud himself:   
" _My sword pointing to the sky, victory is descending upon me._ Do you like that better?"   
"Well, both ways of looking at it are somehow more pleasant than sagging breasts," Matthew said dryly and Sebastian giggled strangely girlishly again. Tipsy or not, but Alex would certainly not get involved in such a conversation, so he retreated and put the note with Gudrun's message on Markus' desk.

Alex let the arrow shoot off the string and frowned grimly. None of the ten arrows had hit the bull's-eye.   
"How do you make it look so easy?"   
Surprised, he turned around. Half behind him stood this knight of the empire, who had taken part in the water battle of the squires so carefree.   
"Well, it's easy. I guess," Alex replied belatedly.   
"Yes? Then I must have had the wrong teachers." In addition to a crooked smile, the other one tilted his head. Thanks to his long hooked nose this gave him a birdlike appearance. Alex shrugged.   
"We all learn archery, but most of us never touch a bow again after the accolade. We have special archery units for that."   
The stranger nodded thoughtfully. "For us it's not even part of basic training. My father insisted that I learn it anyway."   
"Good attitude." Alex nodded and went off to collect his arrows. When he came back to his starting point, the stranger reached out his hand.   
"Severio fil-Vibius."   
"Alexander Appleberry." Alex returned the greeting. Actually, he could have been mortally offended that a commoner approached him so directly, but being a princely asshole others could do better. He looked at Severio critically, the strange circles on his skin, and then asked:   
"Aren't you the one who won against both Martin Hazel and Robin Blackwood yesterday?"   
Severio could hardly suppress a proud grin. "Yes, I am. I've been told that Robin Blackwood was the favorite immediately following Henry Sandmoss."   
" _Was_ is the proper term..." Ariel had actually been disappointed that Robin had lost. If Alex hadn't seen how she kept pushing poor Matthew into speechless embarrassment, he would almost have been sure that she had a liking for Robin.   
"Christian Appleberry wouldn't happen to be on your list of allotted opponents?" he casually asked.   
"I think so. Why?"   
"Kick his ass for me, will you?"   
"I guess you don't like your half-brother very much...", Severio noted; Alex had seen him having a brief chat with Matthew at one point or another- the guy seemed to buzz around everywhere and talked to everyone, how did he find the time to sit with Sebastian in the library for hours? - and had obviously learned some essential things in the process.   
"Not really, no," Alex agreed with him and nodded. "Not only is this guy a bastard, but he's also an asshole, taking advantage of his princely status wherever he can, only to wriggle out as a bastard somewhere else."   
Severio nodded thoughtfully. "A lesson in archery for a lesson in manners?"   
For a moment Alex was surprised, then he grinned. "Deal."

~

"Seb, wait, where are you going?"   
"I want to show you a special book."   
"But the library's the other way."   
"Well, it's not in the library."   
Matt swallowed more protests and followed Sebastian through the castle instead. The pale prince was vibrating with excitement again and Matt thought it was pretty cute.   
They walked across a small courtyard, got into a side building and then through a door that led into one of the slimmer towers.  
"Isn't that your court wizard's tower?"   
"Yes, but since the last one died, father is discussing a successor with the Hall of Shadows."   
"Ah..."   
They climbed up the narrow steps, higher and higher, until Sebastian, breathing heavily, finally pushed open a narrow door. Behind it, in the dim light of dusk, Matt spotted several huge bookshelves.   
"You know," he said softly, "I'm not sure it's a good idea to be in the private library of wizards-"   
"It's fine..." Sebastian knocked against something on the wall and suddenly several small lanterns were lit on the walls.   
"Oooh..." Stunned, Matt wanted to take a closer look, but Sebastian already pulled him by the wrist into a corner with a high reading desk. Sebastian let his eyes and fingers slide over the books in one of the shelves until he had found a thin book and put it on the lectern. The leather cover was unmarked, but the metal fittings shimmered strangely greenish; Sebastian opened it and Matt was amazed.   
On the left side was text, on the right side a beautiful picture was painted. A squirrel sat there, ready to pounce on the acorn lying at the foot of a tree at any moment. Sebastian touched the painting with a fingertip and it came to life. The squirrel dashed off, grabbed the acorn and scurried up the tree. Matt escaped a stunned sound as the image slid back into its original position and the movement began again.   
"Fascinating, isn't it?" Sebastian murmured softly and turned the page. A horse galloped across a meadow and this time Matt followed the movement reverently with his fingertips.   
"That's incredible..." Autumn leaves swirling through the air. A beetle crawling across a flower. A cat walked over a wall. A flickering fire. Two human figures running towards each other, embracing each other dramatically.   
"This is incredible..." Matt murmured again and stroked the thick paper again, which just felt like paper with ink.   
"The old wizard allowed me to do a little treasure hunting here... and this is what I wanted to share with you...", Sebastian whispered and stroked the picture until his fingers touched Matt's.   
"Thanks, Seb. You are the best friend I could ever ask for." Matt was serious, even if he sometimes had the impression of being something like a big brother for Sebastian, who you looked up to in admiration- even though Sebastian was older than him. However, the way Sebastian's fingertips slid over Matt's fingers, hand and wrist had absolutely nothing brotherly about it.   
"It means a lot to me that you say that," Sebastian whispered with glowing cheeks and Matt's smile began to flicker. For a moment he wondered what had been the decisive wrong signal he had sent out- reading the poems of Patrick the Handsome was definitely one of them- but Sebastian's tender hold on his wrist made his skin tingle uncomfortably. He twisted his wrist to release Sebastian's grip and took a half step back.   
"I don't think we should be excessively late for dinner again."   
"Oh. No, that's... you're right." Sebastian's shy smile was different than usual and Matt got a stomach ache.

~

Sev stroked over his birthmark and felt it tingle. The magically polished mirror distorted the colors a little, but the curlicues remained the same. This kind of birthmark was said to have been formed when the humans were in close contact with the destructive magic of the elves and should protect the wearer from that same magic, but this was only a legend. Nevertheless- when Sev had told Matthew about it, because the prince finally gave in to his curiosity, Sev had felt the strange dangerous aura of the prince flare up. Since then, the mark was tingling and Sev had to pull himself together not to scratch wildly at it; he wasn't sure how to sleep with this feeling.  
There was a knock and Sev frowned; it was already quite late.   
"Who is it?"   
"Your wine from Silvershore, sir," the muffled answer sounded and Sev's frown deepened, yet he opened the door.   
"Shall I put the wine on the table, sir?", the servant asked and Sev stared at him speechless.   
"Mario..."   
Mario smiled weakly and entered Sev's guest room. Sev swallowed and closed the door while Mario put the wine on the table.   
"I...I sent you to Darkmoore, what are you doing here?"   
"Oh, you know, after hearing that Darkmoore has already killed five of our spies, I took some liberties and went to Feather Springs. I think Vibius has no problem with this", Mario replied and his initial smile disappeared. Sev was missing the words for a moment, then he nodded.   
"Tell me some interesting things."   
Mario shrugged. "Whitehill, despite the war, has a formidable military force. The king and his knight commander are considered outstanding strategists. The relations between the different countries and Darkmoore are probably all a bit tense, which is why everyone is making a fuss about Robin Blackwood and his two cousins. The Hall of Water is not to be underestimated, and I would-"   
"The Hall of Water?"   
"Ah, one of the schools for wizards and sorceresses. It is located on the triangular lake in Ringbay. There is one here in Feather Springs too, the Hall of Shadows."   
"Uh..." made Sev uncomfortable and Mario shrugged.   
"I honestly have no idea how many members this caste has or how well suited they are to fight, but if even a quarter is like Princess Ariel, then we have a problem."   
Sev made a face, but nodded. "Can you do it?"   
"Ariel?"   
"All."   
Mario shrugged again. "I have a friend who might be able to help me a little..." They looked at each other thoughtfully, then Sev turned away and searched in his luggage until he found a small bag in which there was a soft clink.   
"Five vials," he said, holding the bag out to Mario, who took it with a nod.   
"How much time do I have?"   
"After the tournament? Three weeks, maybe four. I have to go back to Argynn. Once I'm gone, send Pietro a message, he'll know what to do, he just needs a signal."   
"Okay." Mario nodded and put the bag on the table. "Now tell me something, Sev..." Mario raised his hand and put it on Sev's mark on the neck. "How much did you miss me?"   
Sev buried his fingers in Mario's curls and pulled him to himself. "A lot." He let the tip of his tongue slide over Mario's throat and the earlobe. Mario shuddered and whispered:   
"Show me how much bastard you are."   
"Only if you prove to me that my favorite spy didn't let any of his special talents get rusty..."

~

A soft knock at the door made Matt pause as he was about to pull his tunic over his head.   
"Come in."   
There was no reaction and he sighed before he went to the door and opened it. The hallway was empty. Irritated, he frowned and already took a step back when his eyes fell on the hazelnut on the floor. Slowly he picked it up and stroked his thumb across the wide crack in the shell. Something was stuck in it and it didn't look as if it was the nut itself. Curious, he stepped back into the room and broke the shell of the hazelnut in two; inside was a small folded piece of paper.   
But his amused smile disappeared as he read the written riddle again and again.  
He had only deciphered it when the time hidden in it was almost reached, but still he hesitated. Such a riddle sounded a lot like Sebastian, but would he have the guts? On the other hand, he had given Ariel three hazelnuts and she definitely had the guts for a nightly rendezvous.   
Matt chewed on his lower lip and looked thoughtfully at the hazelnut. He had granted her three wishes... but if they were caught... The slight flutter in his stomach was stronger than his wits, so he hurried through the castle and out into the garden where it took him a moment to find the right spot. And, of course, it was Ariel who waited there.   
"Good evening, Princess..." he said very softly.   
"Hello, Matt ", she replied. The moon was shining bright enough to see her surprisingly shy smile.   
"To what do I owe this honor?" he asked curiously and she giggled.   
"I wanted to be alone with you." Direct as ever.   
"Oh. But... in the garden?"   
"I feel very comfortable here." He shouldn't have expected anything else from an earth-sorceress. "I hear you're accompanying Nicholas to Ringbay?" she then asked curiously.   
"That is the plan, yes." He nodded and she tilted her head as she slowly strolled towards him. Her smell of sweet apples and apple blossoms was bewitching and he took a step back- only to hit a tree.   
"Why do you ask?" he added his question belatedly, his foot got caught on a root as he tried to swerve to the side. When he had regained his balance, Ariel had come so close that he promptly stepped back against the tree anew.   
"I think I'll miss you," she replied softly.   
If he hadn't already lost his words in surprise - her kiss definitely robbed him of an answer. He had never kissed a girl before, but that didn't seem to bother her; she held on to his shoulders and while he noticed that she tasted gorgeously like apples, too, his hands found themselves on her hip- not sure whether to pull her closer or push her away, because his intense reaction to this kiss was a little embarrassing.   
"Tell me the truth," she murmured against his lips.   
"Hmm?"   
"Your magic. Tell me the truth."   
Surprised, he leaned back. "My magic is sealed within me." She shouldn't have even been able to feel the magic in him.   
"You're dangerous, Matt..."   
Something crawled up his legs, wriggled over his skin and he gasped in shock as the tendrils wrapped around his genitals.   
"The truth, Matt."   
"My magic is sealed!"   
Her fingers painfully pierced his shoulders.   
"I... I was sealed when I was ten, no one was supposed to sense anything."   
"You're not a wizard, but you can't be a witch either, although the magic feels more like it," she said softly and he could feel her magic on his skin.   
"I am sealed!" he repeated, the painful pressure around his testicles was joined by a tightness in his chest due to fear.   
"How old are you now?"   
"Twenty-two."   
"And the seal was never renewed?"   
"No."   
She examined him. "What are you?"   
He hesitated. If she ever had any real interest in him, by now it was probably history. "A necromancer."   
"Shit!" As if she had been burned by him, she backed away. "Who came up with the harebrained idea to seal up a... someone like you?"   
"My father. The court wizard, a sorceress and a witch have formed a triangle of might," he replied softly. She was not directly afraid, but had a great deal of respect.   
For a very long moment she looked at him. "Such a triangle of might is a concentration of powerful energies. But your seal is breaking. You must be damned strong..."   
Matt swallowed and thought of Jake. They had played as a group in the orchards and Jake had fallen from a tree. They had all heard the unhealthy snap, but Matt had wished his only friend would get up and tell them everything was fine. Jake had gotten up again, assured them everything was fine, and continued to play with them. Even though his neck was obviously broken.   
"Matt?"   
His eyes flinched back to Ariel.   
"Are you listening to me? Your seal is breaking," she said seriously.   
"And what does that mean?" he asked quietly.   
"That sooner or later your magic will break free of you. It's always unpleasant, no matter what kind of magic it is."   
"What... what do I do now? Fix the seal?"   
"Such seals cannot be repaired, only renewed. But I doubt that anyone would do that," she said softly. "They will imprison you in the Hall of Shadows."   
"That's exactly why my father had me sealed up, so that this wouldn't happen," Matt returned, fear clenching in his guts. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life under lock and key and magical safeguards. Ariel looked at him thoughtfully and slowly came closer again. Hesitantly, she touched his cheek.   
"Did you almost die recently?" she wanted to know and tilted her head.   
"Yes," he murmured. He almost bled to death.   
"When was that?"   
"Last late summer." The day after his wedding, Josh had thought that Matt, as a eunuch, was a lesser danger to his beautiful wife; only Martin had stopped him, but Matt still wore a very nasty and painful scar. The tip of a tendril stroked over it at that very moment and he flinched. Ariel pulled her hand back.   
"You are a danger to yourself and the world around you if no one takes care of your broken seal."   
"Could... could you do that?"   
"For that I would have to know more about seals and your kind of magic," she replied and a pinched line formed around her mouth.   
"But... would you help me? When you know how to do it?"   
"It could be years before I find enough information. By then it may be too late."   
"I don't want to rot in some magical dungeon, Ariel, please!" He braced himself against her tendrils and she retreated. She knew his secret, could easily hand him over to the Hall of Shadows and his life was over. "You are the only sorceress I know. You have possibilities." All his life he had been taught that his magic was bad and had to remain hidden inside him, and what would happen if anyone found out. His father was the only one who knew about it, the other children had their memories magically erased, and the three seal makers had died in the meantime.   
"Please, Ariel, don't tell anyone." he begged strained. The news that his seal was damaged and could break at any time shook him deeply. "I'll do everything within my power for you, if only you won't betray me and help me not to cause a magical catastrophe."   
"I have to think about it," she murmured softly and stepped back, the magic tendrils released Matt.   
"Ariel..."   
"I said I'll think about it." She walked away, merged with the shadows after a few steps, and Matt sank down to the ground leaning against the tree. He had only wanted to get away from Josh and now his life broke apart in a completely different way.   
In furious helplessness he hit the tree with his fist and froze.   
He could feel the tree dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Historical fun facts" for Penguin:
> 
> #1: Certain crown princes can only happily fuck whoever they want because the empire has made same-sex relationships socially acceptable. In the days of Matt, Alex and Sev, it was indeed a grave sin. 
> 
> #2: What hasn't changed over the centuries, however, is the way they treat Necromancers. Accordingly, history has deliberately "forgotten" Matthew Hazel's talent- otherwise Sam would certainly not have named his son after this old hero.


	5. New beginnings

"...and so I am honored to announce the overall winner of this year's tournament in Whitehill." Samson's magically amplified voice reached clear and intense into the stone substructure where Alex was waiting with his friends. Around them stood many other knights and squires, although everyone could already guess who had really won.  
"Henry Sandmoss!"  
The audience broke into deafening cheers, the stands above their heads trembled with enthusiasm. The man deserved it, that much was certain, and Alex wished to be celebrated like this in a few years' time - because he had won a tournament as a knight, not because he had been born in the queen's chambers. The excitement didn't die down, and over and above all the hustle and bustle, Alex only got half an ear to hear that a knight from Rockvalley was awarded Best Junior Knight. And then suddenly it was quiet.  
"As every year," Samson finally said very seriously, "fourteen squires will be knighted because they proved themselves in the tournament. Please, step forward." Slowly, he read the names, and Alex counted internally   
... eleven, twelve...  
"William Bridgestone," Will clutched Alex's arm and made a choking squeal, "Alexander Appleberry."  
Alex squealed as well and although they were supposed to step outside into the arena, they were stopped by their friends who patted them on the back and shoulders and gave them a deafening spectacle.  
Finally Alex smoothed his tunic and entered the arena through the opening. At the top of the royal balcony stood Samson, holding the orb for the magically amplified voice; below the balcony stood King Steven in his full armor, a light green cape hanging over his shoulders and the crown sparkling on his forehead. On his belt was not only a scabbard, but also a symbolic scroll, a purse and on the other side his helmet.  
"You squires," Samson began again when all fourteen squires knelt before the King of Whitehill, regardless from which country they actually came, "have convinced your teachers and knights. You were allowed to participate in the tournament, knowing that your success or failure would reflect on them. You succeeded. You have bested other squires and junior knights, have shown your skill and ability. Here and now you will reap the rewards of seven years of toil."  
Steven drew his sword and then went from squire to squire, muttering to himself and putting the blade on their heads for a moment.  
A strange calm filled Alex. He had done it. He had proved himself. Even though he would have liked to look up to the balcony, he kept his head and gaze lowered. He was now a knight, a true knight, and the whole world knew it.  
"Sir Paul!"  
Someone would come in now to bring the new knight his shield - bare if he was a commoner, decorated if he was a nobleman. Alex counted again and smiled as Samson called out:  
"Sir William!"  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Will's little brother carrying the heavy shield, decorated with two grey bridges on a light blue background. Will rose, took the shield and presented it to the audience before he positioned himself for the salute.  
"Sir Alexander!"  
It was Ariel who carried his shield in, proud and beautiful, with a colorful crown of flowers in her hair.  
"I am proud of you," she whispered as he accepted the shield Samson had shown him a few weeks earlier. He laboriously suppressed an idiotic grin and nodded to her barely noticeably before he too presented the shield and then raised his hand in salute.  
Steven returned the salute- and then the crowd broke into cheers again.

"Sometimes I seriously wonder why no one has thrown Owen or Morgan out of training," Will muttered annoyed and closed his armor chest with a loud _clack_. Owen had just run out of the new room, which they now shared as a group of four, because something was still somehow missing somewhere.  
"Well, it's quite possible that Morgan's father is simply making too good a price on his armor enchantments," Alex replied, adjusting the statuette of the Great Mother on the shelf above the table.  
"Probably. But that doesn't explain why they kept Owen. The guy has a head like a sieve," Will grumbled further and Alex sighed. "Now don't claim that his parents would give good prices for anything."  
"Hmm. Maybe not so unlikely in leather merchants..."  
"Alex!"  
"Yeah, yeah... all right." Alex threw a short grin at Will and then stepped to the window to watch the training squires. Will dropped onto his bed - Owen had deliberately given him the creaky one - and sighed again.  
"Great Mother, let's hope all this madness is soon over."  
Alex frowned. "What madness? There's the tournament closing celebration later, and then everybody starts leaving tomorrow."  
"That's what I'm talking about..."  
Alex couldn't quite follow his friend, after all, Will had been absolutely thrilled about the honor of the tournament knighthood, but since they had started to move their stuff into their new room, he was in a strange mood.  
A knock on the open door made Alex turn around and immediately grimace.  
"What do you want, Christian?"  
"Hey, take it easy." The bastard innocently raised his hands. "I wanted to congratulate you."  
"Oh, yeah?"  
Christian nodded. "Congratulations. You've truly earned it." That... sounded surprisingly honest and unexpected.  
"Thank you," Alex said cautiously, half expecting some nasty joke to follow, but it didn't come. Instead he got a cautious half smile.  
"I know we're not each other's favorite brother" - Alex snorted and even Will made a strange sound - "but at least now we're brothers in arms in all honesty. Can we agree on that?"  
"You mean we behave like honorable knights towards each other?" Alex was skeptical.  
"Well, we _are_ knights. And I admit that you are better than me." Christian shrugged. "I bet you win a tournament someday, unlike me. For you all the virtues are like laws and..." Christian broke off and Alex raised an eyebrow; he had no idea what the bastard was getting at. "What I really wanted to say was: let's just forget our blood ties and just be brothers in arms."  
"It's hard to forget when you're sitting at the king's table," Alex considered dryly and Christian shrugged again.  
"Have you ever seen me there during the tournament? No, and you will not see me there later either. So I say: let's put it aside as far as possible. I want to be able to trust the knights standing beside me." He had a point and Alex hesitated. Finally, he glanced at Will, who nodded encouragingly and sighed.  
"Okay." He reached out his hand to Christian and in the old greeting he grabbed his wrist. "Brothers in arms."

~

Matt slipped out of the Great Hall and breathed deeply the clean air of the palace corridors. The tournament's closing celebrations - including the nomination of Henry Sandmoss as Honor-Knight of Whitehill and a bunch of hollow phrases about peace and friendship for which Martin had been invited to the royal table - had turned into a carousal, and Matt just didn't have the nerve for that.  
He had a problem. A magical problem and Ariel hadn't spoken a word to him in the last three days. He had promised Nicholas quite directly that he would accompany him, but in this uncertain state, this dangerous state, he simply couldn't go with the other prince. He didn't want anyone to know about his magic unnecessarily.  
The castle chapel was fortunately empty- after all, everyone was at the festivities- and he knelt down on one of the prayer cushions just below the Great Mother. He urgently needed a plausible reason to stay in Feather Springs. Well, for now, Ariel was supposed to agree to help him, but still he needed a reason to stay here. A reason that didn't offend Nicholas, a reason that would get him more than a few weeks, a reason that-  
Giggles ripped him out of his thoughts.  
"I told you so," a girl's voice whispered far too loud. "He's like Sebastian." Nathalie Appleberry.  
"But he looks much better," whispered another girl. Did they think he wouldn't hear them in the silence of the chapel?  
"Maybe, but he's a _diplomat_ , not a knight. It's so _boring_!" Nathalie was heard again. Had the two escaped from a chaperone? "Father said I'd probably marry him, but he never said more than hello."  
"What was he supposed to do, Natty? Lift up your skirts?" The two giggled even more and Matt got red ears, although Nathalie had never really given him a second glance.  
"He could have at least-" The door opened again.  
"Here you two are! How dare you- oh." The chaperone's scolding tirade turned into an angry and incomprehensible hissing, and then the two were chased out.  
Matt sighed. The thought of marrying this girl, perhaps even courting her first, made him nauseous. She was pretty, sure, but...  
He almost punched himself in the face. _Courting!_ That was the solution. He would officially court Ariel! Enthusiastic about his own idea, he jumped to his feet, stumbled over the prayer cushion and bowed deeply before the Great Mother.  
"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for your support." As quickly as decency would allow, he rushed out. While he hurried across a courtyard, he hoped that the Blood Moon, still high in the sky, would not hold any more nasty surprises for him. He ripped open a door and took two steps at a time on the stairs. In the library, he would certainly find a book on the rules of courtship - giving the classic flowers to an earth sorceress did not seem particularly appropriate to him.

~

The morning was already more progressed than Sev would have liked, but it was probably one of those days that you could only bear with a constant sighing and shaking of the head. There was quite a chaos in the stables and only at the last moment someone had noticed that one of the horses had lost a horseshoe. And so he waited impatiently in the chaotic castle courtyard, surrounded by his stoic knights - legionnaires, to be precise, his bodyguards - and his servants - who had served both as squires and spies, but since Mario had appeared unexpectedly, he didn't need to bring any of them in here to get the job done.  
Again he sighed as two horses were led out of the stable, not belonging to them. Instead, a blond knight came strolling around a corner and changed direction when he spotted Sev.  
"Sev...I didn't think you would leave so soon," Alex said. Probably he had some kind of guard duty, because he was in full armor, the shield on his back, helmet and sword at his sides- without helmet you could easily knock down a guard, how pointless- and with a fine sweat film on his forehead.  
"Well, I have responsibilities. And Argynn isn't exactly around the corner."  
"Indeed..." Alex nodded regretfully and his crooked smile gave Sev a prick in addition to the tingling in his stomach and loins.  
"You have met Arik of Silvershore," Alex said after a pause and Sev nodded. "Write him a message and ask him for a messenger bird. If you mention that you want to send me a letter, he will certainly do it."  
Sev nodded, although he found the somehow magical messenger birds strange and even scary.  
"I would like to learn more about your ways of training..." Alex then added insecurely and Sev nodded again, this time smiling.  
"With pleasure. Probably I'll remember the whole flood of questions I had during my stay here."  
"Oh, then maybe you should write Matthew Hazel instead."  
"Maybe I will." Sev winked at Alex, who almost seemed relieved. "I didn't think I'd make any friends here."  
Now Alex nodded thoughtfully. "In two years, at the tournament in Ringbay, when I'm just a guest myself, we'll hopefully find more time for a few practice fights. I like your style."  
"I like the idea," Sev said with a broad grin, and was interrupted by a cough from Flavius, the leader of his bodyguard, who pointed to the horses that were suddenly standing next to them, saddled and loaded.  
"I don't want to stop your departure, you're right, it's a long way."  
"Unfortunately." Sev sighed and nodded to Flavius. Alex reached out his hand to Sev.  
"Have a safe journey home."  
"Thank you." Sev grabbed his hand and then Alex took a step back. When Sev had sat up, he raised his hand once more as a greeting and Alex nodded to him smiling.

When they reached the first forest, Sev bridled Kyrie and looked back. If everything went as Sev's father, General Tullius and Sev planned it, there would be no tournament in two years. Considering the traditions of the Empire, there would probably never be another knight tournament of this kind in the Eastern Kingdoms again.  
"Sev," Flavius said admonishingly. "Come on."  
"Yes..."  
"Next time we see the city, it'll probably already be in flames."  
Sev hoped very much that he did not have to destroy Feather Springs, he liked the city. With clenched teeth he turned away and nodded at Flavius.  
If he ever saw the handsome blond prince again, it was probably on the other side of a battlefield. But his smile would haunt Sev in his dreams for a long time.

~

The Great Hall was still packed with all kinds of guests and Alex was looking forward to the day when he could finally stay in the barracks again and eat there. Ariel beside him seemed to share the thought.  
"Thanks to the Great Mother, we were still too young at the last tournament in Whitehill to be here", she murmured and dunked her bread in the light vegetable soup.  
"And it's still a long way to go until the next one," Alex added and took another slice of roast while Ariel nodded, chewing.  
"But I bet," she said, "you are looking forward to the next one anyway."  
Chewing he grinned at her. "What kind of knight would I be if I didn't?" he asked and she sighed, albeit with a smile.  
"You are-"  
"Forgive me, Princess." A servant interrupted her and placed a small plate next to her main plate.  
"Oh...", she made in surprise and Alex frowned as the servant left without serving him or the others at the royal table a cupcake as well.  
"Oh..." she did again, quieter this time and with an almost somber undertone.  
"Oooooh, Ariel!", Lorelei chirped in excitement and Alex looked past her to Samson, who also seemed a bit irritated and shrugged at Alex's look. The cupcake had a bonnet of cream on which a roasted hazelnut was enthroned. Alex reached for it and received a painful slap on the wrist.  
"That's not for you!" Ariel hissed at him.  
"But-" He interrupted himself. A hazelnut. He looked around the tables and found a chalk-white Matthew sitting nearby in the company of Nicholas and Arik, who both looked worried. A loud crack made Alex wince- Ariel had shoved the hazelnut into her mouth- and although Matthew must have been aware that she could break his other nuts just as easily, he seemed relieved and his cheeks turned red.  
"Oh Great Mother, Ariel, this is going to be an exciting time," Lorelei said enthusiastically. Ariel, on the other hand, seemed far too serious, too thoughtful, too... worried?  
"Ariel?" He put one hand on her wrist and she looked at him. "Are you really okay with this?" She had always said she never wanted to go along with this nonsense of courting.  
"Yes," she said, still unpleasantly serious, "I am."  
"I always thought you'd only play along with this nonsense if you fell head over heels in love with someone, but-"  
"Alex. This is my business." He didn't like her tone of voice, not at all, and he didn't like it either that she simply turned away to talk to Lorelei.

Matthew disappeared from the Great Hall until Alex reached his table a little later.  
"Did you know about this?", Arik curiously asked.  
"No." Alex shook his head. "And Ariel also seemed too surprised They obviously didn't talk about it."  
Nicholas tilted his head. "He mentioned this morning that maybe he wouldn't come with us after all."  
"What kind of _maybe_ it was?" Arik asked with a raised eyebrow.  
"A normal one. But apparently he wasn't sure if she would agree to the courtship." Nicholas shrugged slightly and Alex sighed and rubbed his forehead.  
"Do you know where he went?"  
"Since Sebastian is still standing here, he's most likely _not_ in the library," Arik said with a mocking grin and Alex glanced at his brother who was talking to two older men at the edge of the Great Hall.  
"Try the chapel or the Sacred Grove," Nicholas said calmly and Alex nodded at him.

Most of the Sacred Groves were a meeting place, more like a garden under priestly supervision, with benches and tables, and those same priests for conversations or the guidance of collective prayer. The Sacred Grove of the castle, however, was a secluded place, quiet and devout. Matthew knelt there in the grass in front of the statue of the Great Mother and Alex, after a short hesitation, knelt beside him.  
He wasn't sure how to begin the conversation, but by then Matthew already asked quietly:  
"Are you angry with me?"  
Stunned, Alex blinked at his profile. "What for?"  
"Because I'm courting your sister just like that." He sounded so calm and thoughtful, almost shy.  
"I have no say in the matter. I'd rather be interested in the _why_ ," Alex replied quietly, adding: "You both don't seem to have found true love." A short smile flitted across Matthew's face before he looked up at the statue again in earnest.  
"We both have our reasons. And I bet your father would be well served if someone showed mercy to his sorceress-daughter, who regularly threatens to enter the convent."  
Hissing, Alex sucked in the air, but Matthew had a point about Steven. Nathalie was much easier to marry off. "A marriage of convenience."  
Matthew bowed his head in agreement. But the _why_ was still haunting Alex's mind and there were certain rumors...  
"Be honest. Are you staying for Sebastian?"  
Now Matthew gave him a wry look.  
"There are whispers. And I heard you in the library reading dirty poetry..."  
Matthew made a face. "Reading the poems was really not the best idea, but at that moment it was just to lighten the mood. I assure you, my friendship with Sebastian has nothing to do with this."  
Alex nodded- and still: "Does Sebastian agree with that?" Now Matthew sighed deeply and his hands folded in his lap twitched.  
"I'm afraid his interest lies elsewhere," he finally said very quietly. Alex grimaced.  
"This is wrong." It was wrong and a serious sin and actually more than that, but Alex was afraid to call his own brother sick.  
"The Great Mother teaches us the principle of the Duality of Being," Matthew said softly and looked up at the statue again. "But she also gave us freedom, love and a free will. So we can fall in love with whoever we want. But can divine principles be so contradictory?"  
Alex was not sure whether he should answer it or whether it was a rhetorical question. "Wouldn't it be better to discuss this with a priest?"  
He got a wry look. "I doubt if the priesthood has a satisfactory answer to this. But I have asked the question to _you_."  
Alex had no answer to this either, but Matthew rose and Alex hurriedly followed suit. Matthew's amber eyes glowed eerily in the moonlight- the damn blood moon was still there- but before either of them could continue the rather strange conversation, Ariel appeared among the bushes.  
"Princess." Matthew hinted at a bow and Ariel nodded politely at him.  
"Matt." Then she turned to Alex. "Would you be so kind as to wait in plain sight?"  
"Am I being demoted to chaperone?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Ariel shook her head with a smile and patted his arm.  
"I only give you permission to stay close to me. Before you try to play the completely inconspicuous protector."  
Matthew's lips curled in amusement, but Alex nodded sourly.  
"As you wish."

~

Alex walked a bit away, but Matt couldn't find the right words- and Ariel just looked at him. Serious and beautiful and kind of intimidating.  
"I'm sorry," he finally said, his hands clasped firmly behind his back again. "I know you wanted to think about it, but I was supposed to leave Feather Springs tomorrow with Nicholas and..."  
She shook her head gently. "Your handling honestly surprised me, but it's a very elegant solution." Something in him relaxed, but she just stood there, like in a twisted reflection were here hands modestly folded and the head a little lowered. "My question is, have you thought this through to the end?"  
"What do you mean?" he wanted to know, slightly irritated.  
"I've done some research, and I think I can buy you- us- some time. But your magical state is fragile, and a real solution could take years."  
He simply nodded and she sighed.  
"I'm talking about _years_ , Matt. A courtship only lasts a few months. Are you ready to actually marry me?"   
"I am." He had pondered about this possibility half the night. "But what's more important to me is _your_ opinion on this. If you don't want it, if you just agree to solve the riddle, then I'll-" Her eye-rolling sigh interrupted his stiff reply.  
"If we're getting married, we'll share the bed."  
"But my only concern is-"  
"If you continue to play the virtuous knight, _your_ marriage bed will indeed remain cold."  
He looked at her a little confused. "I do not believe in coerced marital cohabitation."  
"Oh, Matt..." Now her sigh was almost affectionate. "You're a good-looking guy, gentle and kind and polite and intelligent. I'm a sorceress, and I know I'm not exactly the easiest person to get along with. So let's face it, you're the best option I have- I will ever have- and I like you, so I'm more than okay with it."  
At least she had a healthy view of herself, Matt thought, but he still didn't feel comfortable with her answer. "I may repeat myself, but I will do everything in my power to..." He paused.  
"Yes?"  
" _To make you happy_ , I was going to say, but pronounced it sounds awful," he murmured and she giggled.  
"I also repeat myself: I'm not exactly easy. So you'll have to make an effort."  
He frowned critically and she giggled again.  
"Perhaps we'll start by keeping this courting stuff to a minimum, huh?"  
With a smile he nodded. "Okay." This meant in reverse that he was probably a married man pretty soon. The thought made his stomach flutter and he held out his hand, which she grabbed after a short hesitation. With a proper bow, he breathed a kiss on the back of her hand before taking her back to her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Historical fun facts" for Penguin
> 
> #3: A ballad written in honour of Henry Sandmoss and his tournament victories is still extremely popular with the knights of Threehills.
> 
> #4: For Sam "to court" is just the noble way of saying "to flirt/to date", but back then it meant following a bunch of rules under the watchful eyes of a chaperone (which Ariel fortunately doesn' have).


	6. Fragile silence

Steven leaned against the wall next to the window with his arms crossed, Samson sat on a chair at the side, an ankle on his knee. Alex stopped a little uncomfortably in front of the desk and clasped his hands behind his back; Steven's thoughtful gaze rested on him for an alarmingly long time.  
"So", Steven then started, "what do you think?"  
"Of what?" Alex asked back. He felt like he had missed an important part of the conversation.  
"Of Matthew courting Ariel."  
With cautious restraint Alex shrugged. "She agreed."  
"Don't tell me you don't care." Steven sounded like Alex was brazenly lying to his face.  
"I didn't say that," he promptly said somewhat defensively. "But if Ariel tells me she's okay with it, I'll take it."  
"And what do you think of Matthew Hazel himself?" Steven continued. Again Alex shrugged.  
"He's a good guy, I guess."  
"Alex," Samson said softly, "we all know you would burn down the Eastern Kingdoms for her, so be honest. Do you want to wring his neck or not?" The conversation between him and Matthew- Matt, the other prince had insisted on at breakfast- from the night before came to his mind.  
"No. I told you he is a good guy. A man of words."  
Steven sighed a little annoyed. "We know that. I want a rational opinion from you."  
"What do you want to hear, father? I just had a few conversations with him about petty things. He and Ariel seem to be getting along well, and if she agrees, that's fine by me. She's strong enough to put him in his place if she doesn't like something."  
Samson laughed softly. "Definitely."  
"If you want a better opinion, ask Sebastian," Alex added and immediately had his brother in mind, stammering and bright red, trying not to say the wrong thing. He almost felt sorry for the bookworm. Almost. "He seemed to get on well with Nicholas, too," he added, because Steven still looked dissatisfied.  
"Well, Nicholas left this morning."  
Once again Alex shrugged and Steven again made an annoyed sound.  
"Is there any problem?" Alex asked cautiously. "I mean, just be glad that Ariel-"  
"Yeah, yeah, the sorceress is getting married, blah, blah..." Steven rolled his eyes. "I have a feeling that boy is not playing with the cards straight."  
Alex escaped a snort. "We're talking about a diplomat, father."  
"You see, even Alex thinks this is normal," Samson remarked, seemingly suppressing a sigh. Apparently the two of them had discussed it at length. Steven pressed his lips together and looked at his sons insistently.  
"I haven't talked to the Hazel boy yet, but something's fishy. Ariel has literally said _'this one or nobody'_ and she doesn't look like she has her head in the clouds."  
Samson raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at? That Matthew's blackmailing her or something?"  
Alex also frowned skeptically.  
"I don't know," Steven said, and with an angry gesture he ran his fingers through his hair before pacing back and forth. Uncertain, Alex glanced at Samson, who also seemed surprised by Steven's reaction. Finally he stopped.  
"I want you both to keep an eye on him."  
The two of them nodded, then Alex dared to ask:  
"Is it because of Matthew himself or because he's not interested in Nathalie as you wanted?"  
"It's Matthew himself," Steven said, again briefly pressing his lips together before adding: "I don't like the thought of us having a wolf in sheep's clothing. My daughter may be a stubborn pighead, but she is endowed with magic, and I don't like it when someone points my own weapons at me."  
Alex nodded, even though there was more than one point in his father's statement, the wording of which he absolutely didn't like.

~

Matt took a deep breath and knocked on Ariel's door. The armor of the two guards standing at the entrance to the corridor of the women's chambers crunched unpleasantly loud in the silence.  
"Oh... hey..." In Ariel's face there was clear surprise when she opened the door. And apparently she was not alone, because on the one hand Matt heard giggling in the background - marvelous, listeners were just what he needed now - and on the other hand about half of her hair was artfully styled.  
"Hey..." He licked his lips and then held out to her what he had come for: a skillfully carved cupcake made of dark wood, whose cream cap could be removed. That's exactly what Ariel hesitantly did, after she had blinked at Matt with astonishment, and carefully took out the half-blossomed little rose blossom - white, with a pink center vein and pink edge.  
"I-I thought it might be... I mean, usually you give flowers and for the tenth day..." The giggles and _shh_ and _psh_ from the background made him forget what he had actually wanted to say.  
"Thank you," Ariel said simply, but her smile was full of genuine joy. The rose gleamed green for a moment and then she put it back in the wooden box. "It will not wilt."  
"I don't think it was meant to be like that..." he said cautiously and she now smiled a little mockingly.  
"I don't think it was meant to give me cupcakes either, was it?"  
"That's quite true, but the rules say-" This time Ariel joined in the giggle and he broke off.  
"You're amazing, Matt."  
"You're making fun of me," he noted slightly offended, but she shook her head.  
"No," she said, and stroked her fingers over the wooden cupcake. "I mean it. You thought about it - anyone else would have stubbornly handed me flowers, and that's really silly with an earth sorceress." That calmed him down, but still... With her fingertips she touched him gently on the cheek and then breathed a kiss on his lips.  
"Thanks, Matt." As serious as the reason for this courtship was - her reaction gave him the faint hope that the whole thing would work even after a hopefully quick solution of his problem. He smiled at her rather shyly thanks to the unrelenting giggle from the background and cleared his throat.  
"May I ask you for the first dance at the party later on?"  
"Generous as I am, I grant it to you." She winked at him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are some ladies waiting behind me to have a little fun with me." She pointed to her hair with an eye roll and he nodded smiling.  
"Although you're beautiful even with wind-blown hair." Now it was him, winking at the expression on her face.  
"Save the flattery for later."  
"Will a poem be enough, or do you insist on minstrel song?"  
"Great Mother, Matt, don't you dare!"  
He giggled together with her ladies' company and got a gloomy look. "See you later, Princess." He bowed and retreated.

  
  


The appearance of the Great Hall and the nobles themselves led Matt to suspect that the King's birthday here in Whitehill was a state occasion. He was glad that he had also made an effort with his wardrobe, for he could not shake the feeling that Steven would make a show of his official conversation about the courtship of Ariel.  
As Matt strolled through the hall, took a wine cup and gave polite smiles and greetings, he looked around. Steven, Samson and Sebastian wore black trousers and light green tunics with wide decorative seems, and heavy show belts - Sebastian's slender figure in particular looked quite silly. Nadira looked strangely bitter in her black dress despite the light green overdress, and it didn't help that she stood with three older ladies at the edge of the throne pedestal as if she had been placed there. Matt sipped his wine and gave Sebastian a mocking smile, as he slipped with an eye roll past a stone old lord to join Matt.  
"Great Mother, how I hate these parties," Sebastian murmured and tugged at his tunic.  
"And it hasn't even begun in earnest yet..."  
"That's what's so terrible about it," Sebastian sighed and brushed a strand from his forehead. Matt glanced up at Steven, who was standing with a couple of Lords, and his charisma alone dominated the conversation. Before Jonathan had fallen ill, he had been able to do so too, but Matt didn't want to think of his father now; he was already uncomfortable at the thought of Jonathan having been alone with Josh for so long.  
"I heard you had a talk with Gudrun," Sebastian then remarked noticeably casually.  
"We met in the library, yes. Yesterday afternoon." Matt nodded and wanted to drink from his wine, but then paused when he remembered what they had been talking about. "You must read the poems of the priestess Mathilde."  
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Surely you don't mean that awful lovey-dovey kitsch?"  
"The very same." Matt shrugged apologetically. "Come on, you can't spend the rest of your life in deep silence with your wife."  
"I know, but all she does is sew and embroider and read trashy poetry. How am I supposed to have a conversation with her? About what?"  
Matt suppressed a sigh and hid behind his wine cup for a moment. The two of them would never have to run their own household and as for children - well, Matt was not willing to talk about that. Thanks to Sebastian's flirtation attempts over the past weeks, Matt tried to avoid such conversations as much as possible.  
"You should at least try."  
Sebastian grumbled and Matt let his eyes wander again. He paused in amazement when he discovered Alex: his hair was exceptionally open and at the temples there was a fine braid hanging from each side, his tunic was fire red and had shiny silver trimmings.  
"Why does Alex wear red?" Matt expressed the thought and Sebastian half turned around.  
"Oh. Red and silver are our mother's colors. Arianna Flameflower. Alex and Ariel at some point got it into their heads not to let those colors perish."  
"Does that explain the queen's grumpy expression?"  
Sebastian snorted. "Nadira is not interested in such things, but is offended when she is not included in such things. And as you can see, she's the only woman in the family present."  
Matt hadn't even noticed. "Looks a bit like a show-off, this party."  
Sebastian nodded and then looked at him worriedly. "I'm afraid father has more in mind than he's told us in advance. Although, basically, those were just instructions as to what to wear." Sebastian hurriedly added the second sentence with Matt's raised brow. "Today is the tenth day, isn't it?"  
Matt nodded and frowned grimly.  
"The timing couldn't have been worse," Sebastian murmured, and Matt nodded again.  
"You speak a true word."  
The pause in the conversation was just enough to take a sip of wine when the portal of the Great Hall was opened with a meaningful creak. The question of the purpose of this showmanship, where the birthday person - namely the king - was already present, died somewhere on the way from brain to mouth. Four young women stood side by side behind the portal and stepped in side by side, the crowd hurriedly made room.  
Lorelei wore black and green, on her strictly pinned up hair a fashionable scarf was hanging.  
Nathalie wore the same colors, but her hair fell open over her back and was held out of her face by a flower crown.  
Gudrun wore a dark green dress with a two-part overdress in golden yellow and dark red - the colors of her family - and yellow flowers in her hair, which looked terrible in the carrot-orange curls.  
Between Gudrun and Nathalie, Ariel walked and stood out as if she was wrapped in magic. A white dress with a fiery red overdress, lined with silver flames, her hair half open half pinned up and with a single flower in it- the one Matt had given her.  
Sebastian's incomprehensible mumbling made Matt realize that he had held his breath in amazement, but Sebastian was already hurrying away to meet the ladies. He offered his arm to Gudrun as Alex greeted Ariel and Samson his Lorelei; a teenager in purple and beige bowed deeply to Nathalie who had no choice but to nod in agreement. The four couples walked the rest of the way together before the King, who spread his arms in a gesture of welcome.  
"Lords and Ladies of Whitehill, guests and friends. After more than ten years of war, its horror is finally fading away, thanks in part to the successful tournament. Please join me in celebrating this summer, the time of peace with our northern neighbors, and drink to a glorious future."  
Matt found the words he chose a little strange, but that was none of his business. His gaze glided across the audience, stopped here and there for a moment and caught a friendly nod from Samson.  
"Celebrate, dance and laugh," Steven called and received a wine cup from a servant.  
"Music!" Samson shouted loudly and Matt was amused as Sebastian - who after all was standing with Gudrun directly on the dance floor - made a face. And then he remembered that Ariel had promised him the first dance. Hurriedly he pressed his half-full wine cup into the hand of a passing servant and quickly stepped to Alex's side, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow while Ariel smiled mockingly.  
"May I?", Matt politely asked Alex, who for Matt's taste hesitated a heartbeat too long before letting go of Ariel's hand.  
"Have fun," Alex muttered with a nod and withdrew. Matt had just enough time to catch his breath when the music became much louder and asked to take a position. Ariel pressed her palm against his and they bowed to each other at the outstretched arm.  
The court dance was slow and very simple, with a couple change to the left, later to the right - Lorelei whispered "good luck" to him - and ended as it had begun, a nerve-wracking long time later, with a deep bow.  
"Red does not suit you," he murmured to Ariel as she grabbed his offered arm.  
"I know. But usually, Sir Diplomat, one begins a conversation with a compliment," she rebuked him in a stern tone, negated by a smile.  
"I like your hair decoration."  
"Boasting of one's gifts is no better." Out of the corner of their eyes they looked at each other.  
"The colors of my house would suit you better." Hazelnut brown and dark green.  
"You're not making it any better, Matt."  
"I know, Princess, but I fear, as far as you are concerned, I am left with either bad pseudo compliments or the whole register of minstrel poetry," he replied as seriously as possible, although his lips twitched.  
"What about healthy mediocrity?"  
"There is nothing about you that would equal healthy mediocrity." He had to add a cough so as not to laugh - Ariel did that for him, loud and hearty. Of course, she could have been offended, but that would have taken him by surprise.  
"I wish there were more men like you to make one laugh in an honest way, just like that." She said it just like that and immediately afterwards: "You should speak directly to father, otherwise he will feel offended."  
He nodded and she patted his arm encouragingly.  
  
"Your Majesty."  
Steven nodded at Matt and together they climbed up onto the throne pedestal - not so much to be out of earshot, but rather to be seen. Even before Matt could begin the polite speech he had prepared, Steven, looking at the crowd, said:  
"I could say a lot of polite nonsense about peace and friendship right now... but I won't." His voice was quiet, serious, but otherwise quite free of emotion.  
"But?" Matt asked calmly. Steven turned his head.  
"I don't like you."  
Only years of training kept Matt from showing his amazement in front of the king.  
"I never liked you Hazels, but my personal impressions are not important enough to influence wedding policy in this country." Steven looked down at the celebrators again and then nodded. "So what do you have to tell me?" Matt's fingers, which he had intertwined behind his back, twitched with subliminal nervousness.  
"Well, I'll skip the polite phrases," he said and Stevens' lips twitched. "I may have come as a diplomat to make new trade agreements and to put a face to my letter friendship with Sebastian; as a diplomat I wanted to move on towards the coast. But I intend to stay for your daughter. And that's exactly why this is not a prince on a diplomatic mission addressing a king, but a man addressing a father." Bold words which Ariel would certainly have liked.  
Steven raised an eyebrow and looked at Matt again. He, for his part, laboriously swallowed his heart, which seemed to be pounding on his tongue, and continued:  
"Your daughter is an extraordinary woman, intelligent, self-confident, eloquent... And that in a mixture which lets you forget ten years of diplomatic training."  
Steven's stifled amused snort made Matt pause. "You forgot _pretty_."  
"I-"  
"But you're right. She's definitely my daughter. Oh, and I think _stubborn_ , _headstrong_ and _exhausting_ should be included, not to mention her magic." An almost wolfish grin flitted across Steven's face and Matt closed his mouth because he couldn't think of a suitable response. "I'm certainly not the best father in the world, but I know my girl well enough to know when to let her have her way. And with _'Matthew or the convent_ ', the choice is not hard."  
Matt hoped very much that she would not regret her choice at some point.  
"So one of her mocking remarks is already knocking you out of your boots?" Steven continued amused after a pause, during which Matt had just about managed to collect his thoughts - the two had the same talent for throwing him completely off track. "Some people would call that weak."  
Matt straightened his shoulders and raised his chin a little. "Given her recently listed traits, plus her magic and the fact that her twin brother willingly beheads me at the slightest misstep, I would prefer to call myself brave." Ariel would have laughed at that remark-and Steven did too, loud enough for those present to notice and hopefully see it as a sign of goodwill for further courtship.  
"I still don't like you," Steven said with a fine smile and Matt nodded.  
"I'm pleased to have your permission to continue the courtship."  
The king nodded thoughtfully and went down the steps where Ariel was already waiting with modestly folded hands. Matt followed him and only now noticed that his knees were shaky. An honest smile lay on Steven's face, but there was a sparkle in his eyes.  
"Try to not break the boy's... nuts," he said softly as he bent over.  
Matt hated that kind of joke.  
"I can't promise you anything," Ariel returned and winked at Matt as she received a kiss on the forehead.  
"That's my girl."

~

As soon as Sev closed his eyes, they twitched behind his closed lids. His body was tired and tense, but his head was going crazy.  
He counted the days, trying to estimate when Mario would go into action, whether Pietro would receive the message and act at a convenient time.  
He wondered how far and well the preparations in Argynn were progressing, if everything was going as they had hoped, if all the troops announced by the Emperor would actually arrive on time.  
He hoped that the supply of his people by the empire's merchant ships was indeed secured, for in the worst case he cut his own flesh when he set off at harvest time.  
And to top it all off, he couldn't get Alex out of his head. The cheerful grin of the young knight. The play of muscles under wet skin.  
Sev suppressed a sigh and turned around on the hard camp somewhere in a forest close to the border to Darkmoore. He hadn't forgotten the strange warning tingling between his shoulder blades; neither had he forgotten what he had felt when he saw Matthew's golden eyes. The golden eyes and the deep voice carried a warning, he felt it, he _knew_ it, but there was something missing and he couldn't say what, because his mother's strange remark about Venyte and Mars didn't fit in.  
Except perhaps in the sense that a handsome knight would turn his head...  
Again he turned around and stared now between the trees. Whoever was standing guard was coughing suppressed.  
Although the explanation he had given Matthew about bastards was the actual handling, he- Sev- the son of a concubine, was behind the scenes just a bastard and not a real son. At least in the eyes of the Emperor, who didn't even like the concubine in question, and who was predicted to have three sons. Sev had been born on the same night as the third son of the Emperor, but his half-brother, who was only a few hours older, had died before the order to kill Sev could be given. He was a false prince, an unloved son, a pawn in politics. And because even a twelve-year-old could understand that, he had asked for military training when he heard the murmur about the Eastern Kingdoms. Four years later he had landed in these foreign kingdoms and in a few weeks he would start making imperial provinces out of them.  
Suddenly sleepy, he wondered if it was a test of the gods that he met someone like Alex so close to the beginning of his great task. Would Herada- goddess of family and home - be offended if he dropped the somehow childish desire to please his father and instead followed the call of Venyte- the goddess of love? Probably. And as much as Mars was known for sharing the bed with his loyal soldiers, he would punish treason against his own troops just as harshly.  
Was the Great Mother as cruel as them...?

~

Matt leaned his head against the cool stone and looked out, over the castle grounds and over the meadows and pastures and fields that lay beyond. His skull was buzzing and the disgusting knocking at the door didn't make it any better.  
"Come in."  
"Oh, Great Mother, honestly, I don't know how you can volunteer for trivial conversation," blurted it out of Sebastian before he had even closed the door behind him.  
Matt suppressed a sigh and turned halfway around.  
"Gudrun is..." The other prince searched for words and Matt raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Empty," Sebastian finally said with a sigh. "There is no personality, no real interests, nothing."  
"Aside from sewing, embroidery and poetry," Matt threw in dry.  
"Right." Sebastian let himself drop onto the chair at Matt's desk and played with the sheet of paper that was lying there and on which Matt had scribbled what he himself thought was a courtly poem. He knew Ariel would laugh about it, but at least they could both say with a clear conscience that he was playing by the rules. And it felt good to know that he could make her laugh, despite the serious problem she was dealing with because of him. A smile flashed across his lips at the thought, but he was a bit ashamed of it - after all, his best friend had been presented with a very different caliber of woman by fate - and turned back to the view to hide it.  
The fingertips that stroked across his lower back and finally rested on his hip irritated him immensely, and everything in him tensed as Sebastian snuggled up against him. In a mixture of instinct and surprise, Matt pulled his arm back, making it even easier for Sebastian, and then Sebastian's second hand was already on Matt's chest.  
"Se-" The smell of fresh sour apples sloshed over Matt as Sebastian clumsily pressed a kiss on Matt's lips. Gently but firmly, he moved the petite prince away.  
"No," he said as gently as he could. Sebastian's lower lip trembled and after a moment, he lowered his eyes.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered choked. "I thought..."  
"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression," Matt returned and reluctantly let go of Sebastian. He immediately wrapped his arms around himself.  
"I shouldn't have... But the poem..."  
"You know this is for your sister."  
"I know. I wish I were more like her." This sentence had so many possible levels of interpretation that Matt's reaction to prevent Sebastian from running away came too late.

The next evening the unfortunate poem lay on the desk in its finest form and Matt read it for the hundredth time while he tied his belt. Absent, he shouted "come in" when there was a knock and then turned his head in irritation when a black figure came in. Ariel in her robes and cap.  
"What are you doing here?" he wanted to know surprised.  
"And I thought you'd be happy to see me," she said and raised an eyebrow.  
"Oh, well, yes ... but I wasn't aware that you were allowed to be in the male guest quarters," he returned and fastened his belt properly. She rolled her eyes.  
"A sorceress may do many things." Apparently she was in a bad mood, but before Matt could ask, she made a face. "My research is frustrating. I found a lot of fragmented information, but it doesn't really add up to the big picture. And I'm only talking about the seal itself right now. I wasn't aware that this kind of magic is hardly ever used any more."  
Matt simply nodded - better than nothing.  
"Some of this you're not gonna like."  
"I thought so."  
Now she nodded and then said with a sigh: "Anything to improve my mood before I have to show my face again in the Great Hall?"  
Wordless he handed her the poem and seconds later her mouth curled up into a smile.  
"Terribly corny. But at least you managed to use a word whose meaning is not entirely clear to me."  
"Oh, yeah?" This actually surprised him. She nodded, but didn't elaborate, instead she suddenly giggled.  
"You're cute."  
"Uh... thanks..."  
She kissed him on the cheek and then pulled a piece of paper from her wide sleeves. "I shall give you this." Rather unsuccessfully, she tried to hide her amusement.  
"What is it?" he asked suspiciously, but she shook her head.  
"Read."  
The blush of shame shot him in the face when he read the juicy poem in Sebastian's handwriting. He deeply regretted having changed before his eyes in such a hurry not so long ago.  
"Well, at least he cuts you pretty good," Ariel noted, who had read the poem by Matt's side - probably not the first time.  
He gave her a skeptical look.  
" _...and if I could, I would write my words on your skin, with fingers and mouth.._." Ariel literally purred and smiled up at him. "That really makes you want more."  
"What?"  
"No?" She raised her hand and touched his lips with her fingertips. "Your innocence makes you even more adorable."  
"Um..." The way she said it, she was apparently no longer innocent herself - and strangely enough, that made Matt deeply insecure. However, Ariel already continued:  
"Most young men I know have at some point found a girl in their bed. And that includes Arik, Nicholas, Alex and Sebastian. Although the last two have thrown the girl out straight. But apparently, that's not very common in Threehills." The last sentence was underlaid with good-natured mockery.  
"Josh and Martin were given a whole lot of things I don't even know about," said Matt neutrally- would he have thrown a girl out?  
"Apparently." She breathed a kiss on his mouth and then tilted her head when he didn't respond. "You don't look very enthusiastic."  
"About what?" he asked quietly.  
"Oh, among other things, the fact that I know what I like." She shrugged. That was a nice way of putting it.  
"I... thought this sort of thing was... exclusive."  
A crooked smile crept up on her face. "That's a little naive..."  
"Probably..." he admitted quietly and lowered his eyes.  
"But this," she said, touching his chest briefly, "is exclusive as long as we give each other what we want and need."  
He looked at her. There was no mockery or anything like that on her face. She meant it. "The warning has arrived," he said a touch too cool.  
"I mean-"  
"I understand what you mean." He went to the door and opened it. "The Great Hall awaits."  
She nodded at him and rushed out. If she hadn't felt his magic, she would actually have been interested in him - just until he found himself in her bed.  
The realization hurt.

~

Ariel leaned against the battlements and looked down at Feather Springs; Alex leaned beside her and looked at his sister. She had been far too serious and thoughtful lately and subtle rings lay under her eyes.  
"Could you please stop staring at me like that?" she asked softly.  
"Can you tell me what your problem is?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
"We're adults now, we have responsibilities."  
He snorted. "This has nothing to do with adulthood. Your weird mood has to do with Matt, doesn't it?"  
She sighed with a hanging head and he spread his arms - downright relieved she nestled into his embrace and he pressed a kiss into her hair.  
"You can talk to me..."  
"He has a magical problem," she murmured against his chest.  
"Let me guess, that's the ominous reason for the sudden courtship?"  
She nodded silently and Alex sighed.  
"I think this is a particularly stupid idea."  
"And you don't know nothing about magic, so shut up."  
He growled at her, she slapped him on the chest.  
"I'm gonna need your help."  
"Oh?" Stunned, he frowned.  
"Matt won't like this, but I need you."  
"What for?"  
She turned her head a little, her fingers unconsciously stroking Alex's back. "Our bond is unique, Alex, and you enhance my magic. You can interrupt me if I lose myself in it."  
"I know that." In the first years of her training he had therefore been brought into the Hall of Shadows more than once. However, he did not like the statement behind it: this was no small problem. "Matt's problem is the solution to another problem, though, am I right?" he asked after a moment of silence.  
Ariel made a consenting sound and then said: "I like him." But that came out so unemotional, that Alex frowned with worry - invisible to her. Matt's smile was real and Alex knew how much Ariel could offend sensibilities with her personality. Not that Alex knew much about love, but if Ariel missed the fact that Matt was well on the way to actually feeling something for her, by looking too closely at this magical problem, it couldn't end well. But for now, he kept it to himself.  
"I'm here for you," he said instead and kissed her hair again.  
"I know," she murmured and the way she clung on to him for a brief moment told him that there really was something wrong.

~

Matt suppressed a sigh when someone knelt down next to him. He just wanted to be left alone.  
"I'm sorry," Sebastian murmured softly; it had taken almost a week for him to summon up the courage to exchange a word with Matt again.  
"There's nothing to be sorry about," Matt said softly and gave him a smile, but Sebastian didn't pay any attention to his words.  
"I spoke to Gudrun. We'll get married here, like we agreed, and then go to Sunplains."  
"Why? Are you suddenly so desperate to avoid me?" Matt asked cautiously. Sebastian seemed tormented.  
"No, I don't want that. And I doubt that Gudrun's happy family is the right place for me. But at the moment, there's probably no right place for me anywhere." The idea seemed familiar to Matt, though for different reasons.  
"Don't be sorry," he repeated. "I can live with it."  
Sebastian made "hmm" and nodded thoughtfully, but then got up. "It must be enough to be allowed to call you a brother soon," he said, strangely stiff and suffering at the same time.  
"l..."  
But Sebastian stalked away before Matt could say more.  
He sighed and looked up at the statue of the Great Mother.

The soft rustle of steps tore Matt away from his inner peace.  
"Don't I get a bit of peace?" he murmured, actually more to himself, but the words were obviously heard, because the steps stopped. And then Ariel sighed and sat down next to him with billowing robes.  
"Are you offended?", she asked without any greeting.  
He looked at her questioningly.  
"Because I called you naive."  
He snorted. "I told you you had a point."  
"Then what is it? Because you don't need to be a diplomat to tell the difference between a real smile and a fake one." She pulled off a piece of grass and played around with it.  
"You said respect isn't your strongest suit, but this isn't going to work unless you take the matter of marriage a little more seriously." And _he_ wanted it to work.  
Thoughtfully surprised, she nodded after a moment. "I didn't mean to insult your values, and I'll think about it." The same strange tone of voice had already struck her when she had assured him that she would never provoke him to religious discussions, and he assumed that she had already received one or the other sharp lecture on the subject of lack of respect. He could only hope that this would actually make a difference.  
He nodded at her and she sighed.  
"I have found a way to implement my first idea of _'buying time'_. At least in theory," she abruptly changed the subject.  
"And in practice?" he asked cautiously, because it sounded like a big _"but"_.  
"I need your permission for Alex to help me," she said soberly.  
"Twin magic?"  
"Also." She nodded. "But we're going to have to leave town and for that we need someone to accompany us, out of decency. And I want someone to make sure that nobody bothers us."  
"Okay."  
"We will tell him only as much as you want to tell him."  
"Okay," Matt repeated, and he meant it. He had expected that sooner or later Ariel would tell her twin.  
"I have to look at the scar."  
"The... the one about my near-death?" he asked reluctantly and got a nod. ".... okay..." He would simply have to swallow his bias.  
"It will probably hurt, but if it's the reason your seal is broken-"  
"No, it's all right, you're the sorceress here." Despite the knot in his stomach he gave her a brave smile. "And also, I intend to marry you."  
She didn't return the smile, but took his hand. "Touching this part of the body should never hurt. I will make it up to you."  
Before the meaning of this really reached him, a silver spark suddenly shimmered up next to him, expanded and, one blink later, formed a silvery-white shimmering female figure that looked familiar to him. Ariel gasped in shock and squeezed Matt's hand.  
"Prince Matthew..." The spirit's voice echoed a little.  
"You... you're one of the laundry girls, aren't you?" Matt asked irritated.  
"Josephine." She bowed her head in agreement. "King Jonathan is dead. The illness has finally taken him," Josephine said sadly, and through the echoing of her voice it sounded as if she was speaking from the tomb.  
"Oh, Great Mother," Ariel muttered, barely audible, while Matt swallowed.  
"Father..." It had only been a matter of time, he knew that, but it hurt. He bit his lip.  
"Joshua has found the records of the royal bastards," Josephine continued quietly, and Matt had a bad feeling. In the castle alone there were at least a dozen of them, in Seven Hills at least as many if not more.  
"He's killing us all," Josephine whispered and a shiver ran down Matt's spine, Ariel's hand twitched in his. Josephine gleamed up and then her clothes were gone, her naked body disfigured by countless wounds.  
"Oh, Great Mother," Matt and Ariel whispered at the same time.  
"Martin is afraid. He sent me to you." Martin had every right to be afraid.  
"He must get out of Threehills," Matt said in low voice. "I'm safe here. He doesn't have to worry about me."  
"I'm not sure I can make it back...," Josephine said softly and reached out a begging hand to Matt, but before he could react, Ariel raised her hand, Josephine groaned and crumbled in a shower of silver sparks.  
"But..."  
"She felt your magic and wanted to feed on you. If you cannot control this process, magical creatures like spirits will kill you." Ariel sounded dismayed.  
"Thanks." Gently he squeezed her hand and she looked at him.  
"My condolences to your loss."  
"Thank you," he murmured again. "It's okay. Father was very ill. I... I suppose we can consider ourselves lucky that Josh didn't end his suffering on his own." A silent tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. But then there were a second and a third tear and sniffing he allowed Ariel to snuggle up to him to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Historical fun facts" for Penguin:
> 
> #5: Throughout the centuries it was fashionable from time to time to introduce the sons of the nobility to physical love despite the commandment of virginity. Accordingly, Gerald's doing (as to send is former mistress to his grandson) is not as scandalous as Sam would like.
> 
> #6: The cruel murders of the bastards of King Jonathan by his son Joshua went down in history. The Greenmills, who later sat on the throne, later spread further inglorious rumors which should support their own claim to the throne, but resulted in the Sandmoss' being awarded the crown. (Even if at that time the title was officially Royal Governor and the throne and crown were just a formality).


	7. The beginning

"The problem with magic is that it can move quite freely within the limits it was given," said Ariel and sat down next to Matt. He raised an eyebrow.  
"And that means?"  
She pulled a sheet from her sleeve and unfolded it. On it was painted a triangle with sides of equal length, on the left corner stood sorceress, on the right witch, on the upper wizard. Right in the middle there was a dot.  
"It means that magic can take different shapes." She tapped on the triangle. "The Great Mother is obviously a female deity and the magic she gave us is also female."  
"Uh-huh. But I still don't see what you're getting at," Matt admitted. Ariel seemed a little tormented.  
"The problem is that your kind of magic... Let's say you should know the basic framework so you can understand your own place and the problems that come with it."  
"Well, then. Please, go ahead." He made an inviting gesture and she rubbed her temple.  
"Witches are the embodiment of feminine magic. For them, body, mind and magic form a unit which grows as a whole and is crowned by a ritual at the end. They draw the magic from within themselves, but depending on the direction of their talent they can access the elemental magic. A healer witch, for example, can certainly use earth magic."  
Matt just nodded.  
"Sorceresses are like a channel through which elemental magic can flow. This channel usually opens years earlier than a witch of the same age can work magic. We are limited to one element, but in different forms. Some air sorceresses can locally influence the weather completely, others can only cause or drive away storms. A healer sorceress can rarely heal herself, while a witch automatically heals herself."  
"And that you can only heal yourself and your twin...?" Matt interjected as she took a breath. She shrugged.  
"Twins are special, but like I said, magic doesn't follow rigid laws." She brushed a strand from her forehead and tapped on the line connecting sorceresses and witches. "Witches and sorceresses- but especially witches- use pentagrams in many rituals to focus their might."  
Matt nodded again.  
"Wizards, on the other hand..." a brief hesitation interrupted her explanation, "Wizards probably came into being at the whim of nature. They draw their power from within themselves, but their power is limited, like an inner pitcher that slowly fills up again and again." She looked at Matt and he nodded thoughtfully; he could follow the image. "However, they channel the magic like sorceresses. We don't really understand the process, but the power of one or two elements is woven into this very special magic, giving wizards their very own possibilities. Nevertheless, their inner source sets narrow limits for most of them, which is why they don't have to work with pentagrams, but with supporters like amulets or rings or the like."  
Matt nodded again. "It sounds a bit like you look down on wizards."  
The answer was a choked chuckle. "Maybe a little. But witches generally think they're better than us." She shrugged. "In any case, it is not known to us how a man as a wizard can work with magic so easily, while witchers, from the beginning of puberty, fight an almost permanent inner fight between their own masculinity and the feminine magic."  
"That actually sounds a little weird," Matt agreed with her. The court wizard of his father- his brother, he bettered himself internally- had family, he knew that, so the explanation couldn't be infertility or even impotence. Ariel nodded and shrugged at the same time.  
"The interesting thing is that magical talents - both active and subconscious - are found almost exclusively in men."  
He had heard that too somewhere before and he nodded. Again she hesitated and then tapped on the point in the middle of the triangle.  
"Magic does not follow rigid laws, and... _necromancers_ ," she almost whispered the word, "can occur anywhere within these boundaries in the alignment of their magic."  
"Now that means _what_ in relation to me?" he asked cautiously and swallowed his uneasiness.  
"You are a man, but your magic is too much like a witch's." Tapping in the middle of the connecting line between wizard and witch, she looked at him. "I'm not very familiar with witches' magic, so I contacted Charleene Blackwood. I have received no response so far, but I almost believe that the seal was placed just in time to save you from the witchers' inner struggle."  
That sounded anything but good and Matt made a face.  
"I don't know," she added, raising her hands gently in an apologetic gesture. Strangely enough, he didn't quite believe her, or rather had the dull feeling that she didn't tell him everything, but he had the faint hope it was about things that would only worry him unnecessarily.  
"On the other hand, it means that my power is in opposition to yours. Of course, that too has advantages and disadvantages, but as an earth sorceress I also have some control over life and death, and for the moment I consider that an advantage."  
He nodded thoughtfully and licked his lips; the question of how likely his untimely demise was weighed on him, but he did not ask it.  
"Tomorrow I'll look at it", she said softly.  
"Okay... thank you." His gaze still lay on the schematic and he wrung a smile from himself. Suddenly she squeezed his hand and kissed him on the cheek.  
"You have to think positive, Matt."  
"I'll try." But his smile cramped a little. She raised her hand to his cheek and brushed her thumb across his lower lip before breathing a kiss on his mouth.  
"Relax." She winked at him and he denied himself an answer. In a negative way excited, he watched her disappear between the bookshelves. He always found it fascinating how she could be the sober sorceress and the cheeky princess at the same time.

~

"So what exactly are you going to do with poor Matthew?" Alex asked curiously and looked to the right, where Ariel was riding between him and Matt.  
"I need to take a look at the scar left by the wound which damaged his magical talent," she said seriously.  
"That's possible?", he asked in surprise.  
"What, to look at a scar?"  
He rolled his eyes. "To damage a magical talent."  
"Obviously," she replied dryly. Matt cleared his throat uncomfortably.  
"Josh has a magic knife where the tiniest scratch leaves a scar."  
"Ugh," Alex did, then the hidden message got to him.  
"Josh?", Ariel asked unpleasantly surprised before he could do it himself. Matt seemed caught.  
"I told you I had two older brothers," he murmured. "And Josh is a sadist."  
"He did..." Ariel started, then she took a deep breath to collect herself. "What exactly was he trying to do? To castrate you?" it burst out of her and Matt made a soft affirmative sound.  
"Ouch," Alex muttered, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle.  
"Let him pray we never run into each other," Ariel growled and galloped away. Alex looked over at Matt and his face became expressionless when he noticed the look.  
"What exactly have you done to deserve this?" Alex silently asked. The thought that one's own brother could be so cruel was disgusting, but he knew that Nicholas' older brother had also taken his whims out on the younger one before.  
"I exist," Matt replied dryly.

Alex tied his gelding next to Ariel's mare and then stepped halfway into the clearing. In the lush green grass, which looked too lush and too soft to be natural, a pentagram had been drawn from earth and Ariel was just putting up five purple candles.  
"Okay, Matt, come here and lie down."  
"Okay..." said the other prince calmly. He seemed composed- until he met Alex's eyes, because then his ears turned red.  
"And you, Alex, see that no one bothers us."  
Alex nodded and stepped back between the trees, where he started a watch walk.  
"I hope the grass is soft enough. It will take a while," Ariel noticed slightly absent.  
"It'll be all right. Thank you," Matt replied.  
Alex squeezed in between bushes and tried not to make too much noise.  
"And now the scar, please."  
Matt made a strange sound, but too soft for Alex to really interpret it. He heard clothes rustling, and then:  
"Impressive."  
"Ariel!" Matt protested, deeply and sincerely embarrassed.  
"I'm talking about the scar."  
"Sure..."  
Alex giggled and peered through between tree and bush. "At least she's right."  
"Alex!" Matt buried the face in his hands. "I hate you both!"  
Ariel threw an amused look over to Alex and shook her head gently.  
"I'm just saying..."  
"Alex..."  
"All right, all right, all right..." He turned back to his round and was almost back with the horses when Matt made a slight cry of pain.  
"I'm sorry," Ariel said hurriedly. "Someone's gone to a lot of trouble to cure you."  
"A water sorceress," was the muffled answer.  
"You should thank her. She saved your fertility."  
Alex smiled as Matt made another strange sound and then remarked:  
"When I hold the first child in my arms, I'll remember."  
Gently Alex patted the horses and caressed his gelding's nose.  
"May I put my clothes back on now, please?"  
"No, I'm sorry."  
"What are you going to do?" Matt sounded a little pitiful and Alex took a look over there. The diplomat had put one arm over his eyes and the other hand seemed to have cramped in the hem of his tunic. Alex started a second round.  
"Since I cannot repair the seal, I will put a shield around you."  
"Hmm," made Matt vague; Alex had no idea what a seal was, but it was none of his business either.  
"Since the seal is like a second skin on you, and is attached to you and to the magic, the shield will wrap around you like a third skin. I will bind it to the seal and to you at the breaking point."  
"Hmm. Okay."   
"It's gonna hurt."  
"Urgh. Okay..."  
"The shield is therefore not the most stable and I will leave it actively connected to me. Accordingly, you should not leave town without me."  
"Okay..."  
Alex felt the magic emanating from Ariel, enveloping her and Matt in a green glow. She knelt at Matt's hip, one hand on his thigh, the other half hidden under his raised tunic.  
While Alex did his rounds and varied them a bit, Matt kept making soft sounds of pain. At some point Alex tied the horses to a different place so that they found fresh green, and drank some water from the water bag he brought along.  
The sun reached its zenith and the candles of the pentagram slowly burned down. Just when he wondered how long this would last, he felt a surge of magic. Turning around, he saw the green glow disappearing. Ariel swayed for a moment, then she tilted forward.  
"Whew!", Matt made in surprise and Alex pushed himself through the bushes towards them. "Alex?"  
"Here."  
Matt turned his head.  
"You all right?"  
Matt nodded in haste. As the candles had gone out, Alex entered the pentagram without hesitation and pulled Ariel off Matt and into his arms. Immediately Matt pulled his pants up hastily.  
"She's all right, isn't she?"  
Alex put a hand to her forehead for testing, but the skin was cool, she didn't seem to sweat excessively and no blood was running from her nose. "She's okay."  
Matt seemed relieved.  
"Pick up the candles and have a drink," Alex said, lifting his sister up. Matt staggered to his feet and tied up his pants, but Alex didn't wait until he was finished but went straight back to the horses.

As they left the cool shadow of the forest, Alex blinked blinded.  
"We should hurry," Matt said softly. "It would be better if a medic took a quick look at Ariel."  
"You care about her," Alex noted, and took a look at Matt.  
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"  
"I thought this was supposed to be a marriage of convenience," Alex casually remarked and pushed Ariel's head against his shoulder. Matt raised an eyebrow.  
"Just because we have reasons other than love or intimate friendship doesn't mean I don't like her. She's the most fascinating person I know."  
"Person?" Now Alex raised an eyebrow. "Not woman?"  
Matt hinted at a shrug. "It doesn't matter whether she..." He made a gap-filling gesture and Alex said:  
"Apples or nuts?"  
Matt sighed. "I hate those jokes. Yeah, it doesn't matter. It's her personality that makes her who she is, not her gender-specific body parts."  
Alex snorted amused. "It doesn't matter that she's a princess and a sorceress, okay, but you have to marry a _woman_. Now don't tell me you'd be happier with a wife like... Gudrun..."  
"I guess not." Agreeing, Matt tilted his head. "But I still don't court her for her sassy smile or flashing eyes."  
Alex shook his head with a smile and straightened Ariel's head again. But then his smile disappeared. Matt was a nice guy and deserved a warning.  
"I hope you realize she's not as untouched as a princess should be."  
"Yes, that's been brought up." The face of the damn diplomat was illegible for Alex, but he didn't seem overly happy about it.  
"I suppose your father didn't put a girl in your bed at some point ...?", Alex asked cautiously and got a wry look from the side.  
"No, but I think I would have thrown her out. Like you did."  
Alex nodded thoughtfully. The corresponding conversation between Matt and Ariel must have been interesting.  
"Do you regret it?" Matt hesitantly wanted to know and Alex shrugged.  
"No, not really. Squires are required to be chaste and I don't really understand why everyone makes such a fuss about sex. If I ever find the right woman, that's enough for me."  
Surprised, Matt raised an eyebrow and suddenly Alex felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze. "You're touching yourself, don't you?"  
"Once in a while..."  
Matt's gaze still looked unpleasantly probing.  
"I'm not like Sebastian." Oddly enough, he felt compelled to say so.  
"Oh, that's not what I mean." Matt shook his head in a hurry. "It just seems to me that your special bond creates a certain imbalance."  
"What do you mean?" Alex wanted to know irritated and Matt hinted at a shrug.  
"As excited as she is sometimes, as calm you are, sometimes you seem downright passive. She's obviously living it up between the sheets. You don't seem to care. It's as if that connection takes more from you than it gives you."  
"Oh." made Alex irritated and surprised at the same time. "No. Ariel can heal me and she does it all the time, even if it's just a scratch. When I'm near her I'm faster, stronger, more agile... But I don't think she knows that."  
"But speed and strength is not what a sorceress needs," Matt said. Thoughtfully, he looked at Alex, and he was confused.  
For a while he concentrated solely on riding and holding Ariel well, then Matt asked:  
"You can read and write, can't you?"  
"Of course. Although not very well. Ariel likes to joke that she's glad I get my name right."  
A brief smile flitted across Matt's face, then he said: "I'd almost bet that if you suddenly stooped down to work your way through all the whore houses, she'd become just as suddenly exceedingly chaste."  
"Huh?", Alex was a little overwhelmed.  
"There is a fairy tale... A prince has a twin sister and rules the country in his father's absence. The girl is considered stupid and sickly, but when the brother lies in a coma after an accident, she suddenly becomes wise and strong. She takes over the affairs of government and learns to fight, then her twin wakes up again and everything is as if blown away. When the advisors realize this, they put the prince into an artificial sleep, because he almost ruins the country through selfishness, and the princess goes down in history as the smartest girl in the world."  
Alex laughed softly. "No, I don't know that fairy tale."  
"I just remembered. Ariel uses the head, you use the muscles." Matt smiled weakly. "You should tell her about this."  
"On occasion..." Alex agreed with him, but inside he shook his head in doubt. Twins were not linked copies, but individuals.

By the time they reached the castle courtyard, Ariel was still completely passed out. Matt received her carefully and Alex dismounted. He stretched and took his sister back in his arms.  
"I'm gonna put her right to bed."  
Matt nodded and reached out his hand, but then let it sink again. Alex hesitated. Matt's face was full of hidden worry and affection and the hesitation caused him to reach out and brush a strand from Ariel's face for real.  
Alex decided to have a serious word with Ariel later - he didn't want her to break the poor guy's heart.

~

Sev had rarely seen a more inviting gesture than the opening palisade gates of Argynn. No sooner had they ridden through them than several errand boys rushed over.  
"Take this to Tullius and Vibius," Sev said to the first and handed him a leather message cover filled with notes from Sev and Mario. "Tell them we'll talk at dinner."  
"Very well, Master!" The teenager shot away and Sev turned to a second one.  
"Tell Lazio I want a bath and a little something to eat."  
"Of course, Master!" This young man also ran away as if the demons were after him. Sev sighed. He was dusty and tense, but he was home again. And he would definitely enjoy the few hours of rest before he spoke to the General in the evening and called the first war meeting tomorrow morning. He patted Kyrie's neck encouragingly; the beautiful mare had earned some rest and a lot of treats because of the rush of recent times. She whinnied softly and Sev murmured:  
"Right you are. We both need a bath."

Lazio bowed deeply, the blond guy next to him almost even deeper; irritated Sev raised an eyebrow.  
"Welcome back, Master. We hope you had a successful tournament."  
"I guess..." Sev replied slowly and tilted his head. The boy had unusual white blond hair and intense blue eyes - definitely not a citizen of the Empire. "May I know who that is?"  
"Cyril, Master," the boy replied and bowed again. When he straightened up, he brushed his hair behind his ears, which were inhumanly pointed.  
"You are an elfish half-breed?", Sev asked astonished.  
"Yes, Master. The emperor has sent me to you to offer you a little relaxation in the hard times of the war," Cyril answered seriously. Sev didn't know whether to laugh or be angry; the Emperor sent his bastard son an elf bastard as a pleasure slave. For now he just accepted it.  
"What about my bath?"  
"Just about done, Master," Lazio replied and made an inviting gesture, so that Sev, who was still standing right at the front door, finally stepped further into the house. He nodded thoughtfully.  
"Take care of my luggage, Lazio, and you're coming with me, Cyril."  
"Yes, Master." was the eager response.  
In the bathroom, a servant was pouring a last bucket of water into the big tub and bowed deeply before he left.  
"Shall I undress you, Master?" Cyril asked quietly.  
"No," Sev said and pulled the tunic over himself. "Undress yourself."  
"Very well, Master."  
"And let the constant _master_ be."  
Surprised silence, then: "As you wish, Severio."  
"Better." Sev undressed and didn't give Cyril another look until he went into the hot water - anyone else would have declared him crazy at these temperatures, but Sev loved hot baths. The elf bastard was tall, slim and seemed somehow unfinished.  
"How old are you, Cyril?" The name lay unfamiliarly on the tip of his tongue.  
"Nineteen, Ma- Severio."  
"Practically still a child."  
Cyril lowered his eyes. Here in the Eastern Kingdoms one came of age at twenty-one, in the Empire only at twenty-five, and those with elf blood matured late. In a few years the boy could become a handsome man, Sev's untrained eye saw that much, although the sight was a bit odd. Cyril's elven blood gave his pale skin a bluish shimmer, his nipples and balls a purple tint. He lacks muscles, Sev thought and expressed the thought:  
"You will train with the young legionaries from tomorrow on. If you are to accompany me, you must be able to defend yourself in case of doubt."  
Cyril nodded eagerly, then he lowered his eyes again. "May... may I ask what you like?"  
"Muscles," Sev replied, grinning as Cyril embarrassingly wrapped his arms around himself. "And I think I like your hair." It reminded him of Alex.  
Cyril blushed; probably because of it he had been mocked in the Empire.  
"Get in the tub with me."  
"Of course, Ma- Severio."  
"I know what my name is."  
"F-Forgive me." And then Cyril hissed in fright as he dipped one foot in the hot water.  
"I like hot baths." Sev grinned again and Cyril made a soft sound of pain. He gave the boy time to get used to the water and looked at his face. Really, in a few years, when the childlike features had completely disappeared, Cyril would be extremely attractive. If he lived that long, which Sev didn't necessarily expect - a pleasure slave had no place in war. He reached out and touched Cyril's hair, stroked his cheek and lips, the slim neck and shoulders. Cyril looked like a frightened rabbit and flinched violently when Sev pinched his nipple gently. Sev sat down a little differently and let both hands slide over the pale body - it felt as if he was hairless - and Cyril tried to suppress his discomfort with little success when Sev held both his cock and balls with both hands.  
"Let me guess: you hate your life."  
Cyril lowered his eyes again. "I didn't choose it."  
"Who chooses their own fate?" Sev laughed softly. "Our birth puts us within narrow boundaries and within these boundaries we are allowed to choose, if at all. But that is not the point." His hands now rested on Cyril's thighs. "I like a lot of things you probably won't like, but that's something we'll both have to live with. Probably I won't have the nerve or energy for your attention soon anyway, so..." Sev shrugged. "What do you like?"  
Completely astounded by this question, Cyril blinked at him. "Me?"  
"Yes, you."  
"Oh... um... kissing."  
A smile curled Sev's lips. "That makes two of us."  
Cyril blushed and followed the hidden invitation. Almost immediately Sev melted away; Cyril had talent and his slim fingers slid into Sev's lap, while Sev intertwined his fingers with Cyril's hair.  
"Don't", Sev muttered after a long moment and leaned back, licking his lips.  
"N-not?", Cyril asked insecurely.  
"One, I would like to take a bath in clean water and two... later. After the meeting tonight."  
Cyril nodded and Sev looked at him thoughtfully.  
"I like to be handled roughly," he finally said, and Cyril made a surprised:  
"Oh." Then he cleared his throat embarrassed. "I'll... I'll try to..."  
Sev suppressed a sigh. "You can get out if you want..." He closed his eyes and leaned back, Cyril hurriedly got out of the tub. Nobody chose what he was born as, nobody chose what he liked. Maybe he should just leave a delicate flower like Cyril in Argynn and keep it like Mars; there were enough soldiers who would willingly share the bed with their prince.

~

Matt ran. He ran across a battlefield full of corpses and puddles of blood, the light of the blood moon shimmering eerily on the armor. The dead called out to him, begging him for help he could not give. He stumbled over a banner of Sunplains, torn and dirty, found his balance and promptly fell over a shield showing the acorn crest of the Oakshields. As he fought his way back to his feet from the bloody mud, Gudrun's voice echoed under the rain-laden clouds.  
 _"How many brothers do you think I'll lose if Mother really does declare war on Rockvalley?"_  
Matt gasped and stumbled on.  
 _"Can't you go and talk to her, Matthew?"_  
"No..." he murmured and winced, when suddenly someone behind him said:  
 _"No... he can't..."_ There a knight was kneeling in the dirt, the visor on his helmet closed, his armor shining. Matt blinked at the knight and at the exact moment he recognized the Hazels' crest on the shield, amber eyes lit up behind the visor. But Matt hadn't opened his mouth when blood spattered across the shield from nowhere. He was terrified and screamed...  
... and fell out of bed with a very undignified squeak. A moan of shock and pain escaped him and he picked himself up. After talking to Gudrun the night before about the rumors that her mother, Queen Sophia, was going to declare war on Rockvalley because of a puffed up affront story, he had looked up at the blood moon before going to bed. Obviously not a good idea. He climbed back into bed and rubbed his face, hoping to find some more sleep...

The door slammed shut.  
"Matt, I got news!"  
"What...?" He blinked up to Ariel, who suddenly stood in her robes in the middle of his room.  
"I talked to Charleene all night and-"  
Matt sank back into his pillow and rubbed his face.  
"...thinks as I do that the seal..." Ariel walked up and down, but she spoke too quickly for Matt who was still half asleep, and moreover she spoke of things he did not understand. It was about magic, that much was clear, and obviously about sexuality, but he could not follow her. When she stopped, she staggered.  
"Well?" Her eyes were reddened and her cheeks were terribly pale.  
"I have no idea what you just explained to me," he admitted and finally sat up. The thin blanket slid over naked skin and suddenly he became aware, embarrassed, that he had slept naked because of the summer heat.  
She sighed annoyed, but before she could give her speech a second time, he said hastily:  
"How about explaining the whole thing to me in peace? Later, when we're both a little more awake..."  
For a moment she looked at him thoughtfully. "You're right," she said, and to his great surprise, she pulled the robe over her head with practiced movements, her cap sailing to the ground. Underneath she wore knee-length trousers and a sleeveless tunic of undyed cloth, but before he could say a single syllable on the subject of decency, she stripped her shoes from her dainty feet and walked towards him.  
"A-Ariel..."  
Without hesitating, she climbed over him and curled up at his side, her face to the wall. "Blanket..." she muttered and he was far too stunned to protest. He spread the blanket over her and she sighed.  
"Ariel...?", he asked after a long moment in which he had to find his words again. She didn't answer and when he bent over to look at her face, her features were absolutely relaxed and her lips slightly open.  
Something is definitely going wrong here, he thought and shook his head before he slipped out of bed.

"You're already up."  
Matt was greeted by Alex as he entered the Great Hall.  
"And you're here," he growled and sat down with the young knight. Alex grinned.  
"Father called an emergency meeting for this morning yesterday, because he has of course received a letter from Queen Sophia."  
"You think that's funny?" Matt frowned and grabbed a roll.  
"No." Alex's grin went out. "Of course not. But I'm allowed to be there."  
Since Matt could understand how Alex must feel, he nodded.  
"Did you sleep badly?" Alex casually asked and bit into a ham sandwich.  
Matt nodded and stuffed, because the plate with said ham was closest to him, that very ham into his ripped bread roll.  
"You haven't seen Ariel by any chance?" Alex kept asking with his mouth full and Matt shook his head.  
"Why should I?" He took a bite and Alex put his head crooked in a meaningful way.  
"What?" Matt mumbled with a full mouth and felt his face blush with Alex's growing smile. He laboriously choked down the under-chewed bite. "She's sleeping in my bed with her clothes on," he finally admitted. "But there's absolutely-"  
"I know."  
"What?"  
"I saw her enter the castle earlier." Alex winked at Matt and then shook his head. "But it's none of my business, either." Matt took a sip of cold tea and then shook his head.  
"Why do you make jokes like that?"  
"Why not?" Alex asked back and shrugged. "Friends do that. Brothers do that too. Soon you'll be both one and the other." There was some truth to it and Matt nodded. A shy smile crept up on his face.  
"I think I like my new brothers better than my old ones."  
Alex did not smile. "I guess it's not hard with someone like Josh."  
Matt lowered his eyes and gave no answer.

They finished their breakfast in silence and then rose together. In the wide hallway in front of the Great Hall they came across Samson.  
"Here you are!"  
"It's not time yet," Alex protested under the hidden allusion that he was too late. Meanwhile, Matt wondered why it was necessary to call crisis meetings so early in the morning.  
"But everyone's already there," Samson said, nodding seriously at Matt, who nodded back just as seriously. He followed the brothers, because the library was in the same direction as the boardroom and since Ariel would probably sleep for a while, he could also take one or two interesting books with him.  
"General Blackstone thinks it's nonsense," Alex was just saying as Matt was paying attention to the conversation again.  
"Old Blackstone thinks everything is nonsense until he gets right into it," Samson grumbled. "It was no different with the war on Threehills."  
"Yeah, but this isn't about us now."  
"Quite right. But war is war." Samson gave Alex a meaningful look and the younger one nodded.  
All of a sudden, Matt got goose bumps. A soft whisper - like the rustling of dry leaves - echoed in his ears. A black-violet shadow rushed past the edge of his field of vision and someone sighed one last time. He gasped for air.  
"Matt?" Alex's worried face was suddenly right in front of him and he gasped. "Matt, what's wrong?"  
He suppressed the urge to cling to the knight and said softly: "Death is in the castle."  
"What...?" Alex looked at him without understanding.  
"This... this is my magical talent," Matt whispered. "I can feel death." Half a truth was better than a lie.  
Alex backed off. "What...?" he repeated, still without understanding. Meanwhile, the sighing of a dying man repeated over and over and Matt became frightened.  
"People are dying here, Alex."  
But that seemed to reach him, because his hand twitched to his dagger. "Go to your room," he said sharply, turning around before Matt could even nod.  
"What's wrong?" Samson asked, not having heard the low conversation. Alex stomped wordlessly past him, presumably to tell his father, and Matt turned around to answer the request. His magic scared him and hopefully he would feel better in Ariel's presence.

Ariel was still asleep when several hours later Matt heard the heavy footsteps of armed men stopping right outside his door. He felt nauseous and almost dropped the book he had been reading when Alex opened the door and slammed it behind him. With a startled cry, Ariel woke up and gasped.  
"Alex! What are you doing here?"  
Alex's face showed a nice selection of negative emotions and Matt swallowed hard.  
"Come here." Alex said coldly, reaching out a hand towards Ariel.  
"But... what happened?" She looked as confused as Matt was feeling.  
"Get dressed," Alex hissed, and she slipped out of bed, into her shoes and then stopped in the middle of the room, her arms crossed in front of her chest, waiting and asking.  
For a moment Matt felt like a spectator, but then Alex looked at him and he would have loved to sink into the ground together with the chair.  
"Matthew Hazel, Prince of Threehills- you are hereby taken under arrest."  
"What?", Matt and Ariel did at the same time, though to different degrees of amazement.

~

Alex felt sick and the thought of having to tell Ariel what he had seen was enough to bring tears to his eyes. There was horrified grief and helpless rage in his stomach and the latter was partly directed at Matt, although he probably didn't do anything wrong. As little as the diplomat's face usually revealed, the consternation had been obvious and real. _"Death is in the castle."_ Yes, that's one way of putting it.  
Alex glanced briefly at Ariel, who walked beside him with a frozen expression.  
Their father was dead. Just like Knight Commander Robert, General Blackstone, the military advisor Sir Markus as well as the four Lords who had wanted to participate in the crisis meeting. Samson had probably only survived because he had gone to fetch Alex before the cooled wine had been brought. Alex knew that even he himself would have had a little wine out of politeness...

Ariel's hand had cramped around Alex's when it knocked.  
"Come in," she said dull. Alex looked up as Samson entered and quietly closed the door behind him before sitting wordlessly at the table with the twins in Ariel's living room. Slowly he grabbed Ariel's second hand - and then the mask of the composed crown prince broke. His lower lip trembled and silent tears ran down his cheeks, again driving both Ariel and Alex to tears.  
Ariel didn't move even as snot ran down her lips and chin and finally Alex was the first to sob audibly. Seconds later, Samson pulled him onto his feet and into a tight hug, with Ariel squeezing into it.  
"We've..." Samson said trembling, "We arrested a man from the servants' quarters."  
Ariel got a hiccup.  
"The man who came from the Imperial Colony last year."  
Ariel's head hit Alex's chin uncomfortably during a hiccup.  
"One of the kitchen boys turned him in."  
"The... the Imperial Colony?" Alex whispered and broke away from his siblings to look at Samson.  
He nodded.  
Alex thought of Sev and gritted his teeth. In no way a servant acted on his own initiative to such an extent. In no way a man would go to a foreign country on a whim to serve there. But what did the colony get out of it? What did Sev as vicegerent get out of it? Why had he made friends with Alex, Matt and Arik? He did not know. Didn't want to know for the moment either. Instead, he held Ariel and looked at Samson. He sniffed softly and wiped his face with the hem of his tunic.  
"I cancelled Matthew's arrest order."  
"Thank you." Ariel whispered, half choking on a hiccup. Alex nodded silently and narrowed his brows questioningly as Samson put one hand on his shoulder.  
"I think father's suspicion of him came from the rather... hmm... unfortunate magical talent," Samson said seriously and Ariel made a strange choked sound. "Listen Alex, I need an heir and we all three know I can't trust Sebastian in that respect. I can't overlook him in public, so please - give Ariel and Matthew your blessing and find yourself a wife."  
"Why... why would you say that?" Alex asked confused and Ariel raised her head. Suddenly Samson looked old.  
"Lorelei lost another baby yesterday. The healer says that even if the pregnancy progressed, neither Lorelei nor the baby would survive."  
"Oh, Sam..." Ariel threw herself with new tears around her big brother's neck and Alex nodded at him.  
"We can do this," he said softly. "Together."

~

Sebastian didn't react to Matt's knocking, neither did he say anything nor open the door. Into Matt's anxious sigh, one of the guards cleared his throat.  
"Your Highness, Prince Sebastian gave orders to let you through to him at all times and under all circumstances. You may enter."  
Matt swallowed a response and just nodded thankfully before slipping into Sebastian's rooms. He sat silently and rigidly on his bed, his hands between his knees, looking into the void. There was no movement to indicate whether he noticed Matt entering, and he didn't flinch when Matt sat down next to him.  
"Seb?"  
He let his head droop and carefully Matt put an arm around him. For a moment Sebastian resisted, then he leaned into the hug and began to sob.  
"I'm so sorry..." Matt said softly and pulled Sebastian towards him; worried, he registered how bony the other prince felt.  
"I can't do this," Sebastian choked out between two sobs.  
"What you can't do?" Matt asked softly.  
"I can't... I can't take Samson's place as Crown Prince. I can't, Matt..."  
"Shh, relax, it's just a title." Matt tried to soothe him. "Samson will have kids of his own soon, for sure."  
"But... but I can't..."  
"Shh..." With gentle force Matt pressed Sebastian's head against his shoulder. The feeling of being needed was strange, but at the same time surprisingly good. As Sebastian began to tremble under his crying fits, Matt pulled him even closer until he was practically sitting on his lap. Sebastian wrapped his arms around his neck and Matt pressed the fragile-looking Sebastian against him.  
"Shh..." he did again. "I'm here for you. I'm here, Seb, I'm here for you."

~

Sev looked from Kyrie's back over his assembled army and nodded thoughtfully. General Tullius beside him nodded as well.  
"We're only waiting for your signal, my prince."  
Sev raised his chin and pressed his lips together before raising his hand. The left hand with the heavy signet ring on it, flashing in the sun. He looked at Commander Arco who also nodded.  
"For the Empire!" Sev shouted, and his legionaries yelled:  
"For the Empire!"  
"For the glory of the Emperor!"  
"For the glory of the Emperor!" the soldiers repeated.  
"With the gods' blessing!"  
"With the gods' blessing, whose names we sing!" the legionaries roared and Sev let his hand sink.  
"Let us add a few new provinces to the map of the Empire," Tullius said proudly and majestically, and the soldiers cheered. Sev directed Kyrie around, nodding to Flavius who was riding at his other side. Flavius nodded back and then murmured barely audibly:  
"I still don't understand why you're actually taking Cyril with you. The boy belongs in a big soft bed and not in the middle of a field camp." Cyril rode somewhere with the officers' supply troops.  
"I can't have the one I want, so I have to let my frustration out somewhere," Sev replied coolly; he didn't like Flavius' attitude on this subject. "By the way, it is quite possible that I will soon be sleeping in the bed of the King of Silvershore."  
Flavius snorted. "Yes, but certainly without the blond prince you so vividly dream about. He would rather murder you in your sleep than to bed you."  
"Probably." Unimpressed, Sev shrugged, with the padded hood under his helmet sliding on the shaven skull. Should Flavius believe that Sev was over this silly crush, which was apparently more obvious than Sev would have liked... he just didn't stand above this silly crush and bitterly regretted that he had to give up his curls- Alex would never have even the chance to bury his fingers in them and pull them with real passion. Sev felt a bit as if he had been bewitched, and because this thought really scared him, he raised his voice to sing an old war song.  
Flavius was right, he should have left Cyril at home.  
In war it was better to think only with the sword of steel and not with the one between your legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual historical fun fact:
> 
> In medieval times the hazelnut was a symbol of sexuality. The expression "cracking nuts" was considered synonymous with the "deflowering" of women and "going into the hazelnuts" was a paraphrase for sex before marriage. A man who had many hazelnuts was one who had many illegitimate children.


	8. Duties and Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternative title: hard words, hard swords

Warm fingers, velvety from the oil, glided over his skin, kneaded his stiff shoulders, stroked his tense flanks and caressed his bottom. He sighed a pleasant sigh. The fingers caressed his spine and made him shiver as they touched a certain point just above his buttocks, but by then they were already sliding deeper.  
"Mmm... yes..."  
One finger slid effortlessly into him, then a second. The fingers stretched him, almost too quickly accompanied by a third, and he sighed comfortably again.  
"Hmmm... send him in."  
"Of course." The fingers disappeared and he sat up almost reluctantly. But when he heard the reverently muffled voices, he stood up and emerged - naked as he was - behind the curtain decorated with the fighting dogs of Mars. Immediately the legionary took up a stance in the entrance area of the big tent.  
"Hail, Mars!"  
Sev nodded majestically and Cyril bowed deeply before he disappeared from view.  
"So you have been chosen..." Sev said slowly. The man was not quite young anymore, with scars on his arms and even on his face, but he possessed a rough beauty which Sev liked. "You were deemed worthy to enjoy the company of Mars."  
The man nodded silently. To serve Mars was a double-edged sword. On the one hand it meant that you had distinguished yourself as a fighter, but on the other hand most men were a little too straight in reality to want to sleep with another man. Sev smiled at him.  
"Come." They stepped back behind the curtain, where a large camp of pillows and blankets covered the tent floor; Cyril had already put away the cot for the massage. Since most men weren't much into kissing either, Sev let it be, and said instead:  
"Take your clothes off."  
The legionnaire nodded and loosened the cord that served as his belt, then he took off the tunic; Sev's mouth filled with excitement-saliva at this sight. After several attempts to find both satisfaction and relaxation with Cyril had failed brilliantly, Sev was satisfied with the boy's mouth and slipped into the role of Mars instead. As surprised as Silvershore was by the sudden attacks, as much Sev enjoyed the whole thing - the fighting as well as his legionaries afterwards. He got down on his knees in front of the surprised legionnaire and eagerly began to lick him hard.  
"Oh", the man did, in various modifications, which fueled Sev's fantasy. In a week at the latest they would have reached Crown's Port and once they had taken the city, Sev could well reward himself, couldn't he? With two or three legionaries and Cyril in a big soft bed...  
The man came faster than expected and seemed to be quite embarrassed, but Sev willingly swallowed it all. Then he stood up and smiled at him.  
"My legionaries are starving, aren't they? They hunger for the touch of victory."  
"You have given us a great victory on the battlefield this noon, Mars," the man returned with a furrowed brow. That was quite correct, but not what Sev meant. He touched a fine scar on the legionnaire's chest.  
"You have been chosen for your contribution to victory in today's battle. But can you defeat Mars himself?" Sev turned around and sat with his back to him in the pillows, but it took a welcoming look over his shoulder for the man to understand. With a war prayer on his lips he rubbed himself hard again and knelt down behind Sev.  
  
At some point and somewhere amidst the sounds of flesh on flesh, lustful moans and pre-orgasmic feeling explosions, Sev got the notion that he had actually wanted to think with the sword of steel. But, _oh gods!_ This man was in his wild passion exactly what Sev wanted and needed. One hand was clawed into Sev's hip, the other hand slid falteringly over his back, then onto his chest. Hot breath sank on Sev's skin when he was bent back. Hot, scratchy kisses on the neck and shoulders, a pinch in the nipple - Sev twitched, the changed angle was dreamlike and the next thrust finished him off. The resulting tightness made the legionnaire grunt and at the edge of orgasm Sev felt him getting pumped up.  
And then they collapsed together on the soft bed. Sev sighed comfortably.  
"Does this count as a victory over the great Mars?", the man wanted to know, gasping for breath, and Sev giggled breathlessly.  
"Oh yes..."  
"My existence in these foreign lands is clearly blessed."  
"Oh yes...", Sev repeated, closing his eyes. The service in the tent of Mars lasted all night and Sev intended to fully enjoy this well-equipped and moreover talented legionnaire. Being a prince had its advantages.

~

It could have been a romantic walk in the castle gardens, but it was by no means. Guards followed them and Ariel had woven a little magic around them so no one could hear them. Since she had made no attempt to join him, Matt, as usual, had his hands clasped behind his back. A very decent walk.  
Ariel finally sighed. "Charleene told me some interesting things." For days now Ariel had been trying to tell Matt, but a murdered king was more important than this private problem.  
"You mentioned it, yes..." Matt nodded at her and she tore a leaf from a bush and then turned it between her fingers.  
"To cut a long story short, you didn't need to be sealed up. At the very latest, the witch who was present at the procedure should have recognized the direction of your magic, and you could have been made into some kind of witcher."  
"Oh." That really surprised Matt. "I guess it's a little late for that now?" he asked with a hint of humor.  
"About ten years too late," was the dry answer. "As I said, I'll keep it short. Charleene says it is to be feared that you are witch enough to... well, sex without proper preparation probably breaks the seal in a very ugly way."  
"Why?" he asked, and could not help but grimace a little.  
"Because witches are a unity of body, mind and magic. Charleene said that this unity must be achieved in order to awaken sexuality. Before that, witches are probably even poisonous to men."  
He raised one eyebrow, she shrugged.  
"So that means..." he started and cleared his throat, "so that means, in reverse, that I have to stay a virgin until you find a way to keep the seal from turning everything within ten meters to ashes. Right?" Considering he really wanted to marry her- with all that entails- the prospect wasn't very appealing. She stopped and chewed on her lower lip for a moment.  
"Listen, Matt. From what I've learned about seals so far, it wouldn't be too much of a problem to take it off from the outside if you helped on the inside. But you have to want it."  
A faint horror was building up inside him. "But that means I'm unleashing my magic. That I... I could use it. That I'm actually a necromancer."  
She nodded seriously and he shook his head.  
"I can't do that. They'd lock me up."  
She lowered her eyes, hinting at a shrug. "Well, you must choose your own destiny, and if you don't want your magic - understandably, I must say - you won't have much choice. Either you remain chaste until a possible solution is found and live with the fact that our marriage remains platonic and childless and you're blamed for it, or you raise someone else's child as your own." For a moment she seemed to want to say more, but then she didn't. A slightly hysterical laugh escaped him.  
"If I don't want to be locked up for the rest of my life, the choice is not so hard."  
A smile of compassion and sadness appeared on her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't think... I mean..."  
"It's not your fault." He shook his head softly. It was nobody's fault and basically he could be grateful that she had recognized these things, because otherwise he might have committed suicide in a truly spectacular way. The whole thing was actually quite absurd.  
"Will you... go through this with me?", he then asked cautiously. Surprised, she looked up.  
"It would be political suicide to back out now."  
"Yes, indeed." He held out his hand and she grabbed it. He carefully leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you." he whispered and wrapped his arms around her as she leaned against him. Fear of his magic, horror at the possible release of it, despair at the prospects for the future... Only a deep gratitude to Ariel muffled this almost painful chaos in his chest.  
"Do you want children?" he asked quietly and suddenly fought against tears unsuccessfully. After a short hesitation, she said as softly:  
"Yes."  
"Then we'll have some."

~

"What's new, General?" Sev asked and turned halfway around when Tullius reached the crest of the hill next to him.  
"The siege troops are making themselves comfortable right now," the General replied, but Sev basically saw that for himself. Ahead of them lay Crown's Port, and the beautiful military fleet that lay a bit further to the southeast was quite useless against the army that was just taking up position.  
"What about the damn messenger birds?" Flavius asked gloomily.  
"Flying too high and too fast for us to catch them." Tullius spat. "Magical fuckers."  
Flavius also muttered a curse.  
"But just now one of our messengers came from Ringbay." Tullius handed Sev a little note and he unfolded it quickly.  
"King Nathaniel has survived, but Prince Theodore is dead," he summed up the few sentences even further. Flavius made a relieved sound and so did Tullius, who obviously hadn't read the note before.  
"At least something. Nathaniel Elderblossom isn't the youngest anymore, and didn't you say Nicholas was not prepared for government?"  
Sev shrugged. "Nicholas is a dandy, but he's not stupid. With a capable advisor at his side and a little motivation, he'd make a fine royal governor."  
"Good," Tullius said plainly. Sev turned the message in his fingers and stared over at Crown's Port. Pietro's first assassination attempt had failed and he had almost been exposed, this second attempt was only semi-successful and came rather late; Ringbay was already mobilizing. Irelio had failed thoroughly in Crown's Port and had poisoned half the servants of the castle as well as himself. And there was no news from Whitehill either.  
"What about Darkmoore?" he asked. "Are there any movements on the borders which could be dangerous to us?" Darkmoore and Silvershore weren't exactly friends these days, but would the old Queen watch her neighbor being overrun by a foreign power?  
"No, no news," Tullius replied and Sev nodded simply. He didn't need to order to keep a careful eye on the borders; no one wanted Darkmoore to fall at their backs and Whitehill at their flanks.

~

The Great Hall was cleaned up and decorated and from his position behind the throne Alex had a wonderful view. On the steps of the throne pedestal - three on the left, three on the right - his friends knelt, for Samson thought that as a group of seven they made a wonderful guard of honor. And so they were fully equipped, the light green cloaks of the Kingsguard - of which they did not officially belong - were lined in white. Due to the somewhat precarious situation of a lacking younger generation Alex was not allowed to take any church vows as prince and the others were more than happy not to have to become church knights. Since according to church traditions the coronation of a king could only take place a few days a year, there had been very little time for the preparations and only a few nobles were present, but after all the hustle and bustle of the last weeks hardly anyone was angry about it.  
Sebastian, who stood on the right side with Gudrun on his arm, looked as if he would much rather be somewhere else.  
Nathalie and Nadira kept behind him in the background and Alex had heard that Samson had had to order Nadira to stay with Nathalie in Feather Springs and not to return to her family home in the deep south of Whitehill.  
Ariel, who held Matt's hand, stood on the left side, facing Sebastian, and seemed strangely absent. Alex hadn't had time to talk to her yet and was a little worried, but before he could think about it too much, Cardinal Bartholomew entered through a side door. The little old woman looked like a wrinkled apple and tripped very quickly for her age to the throne pedestal, where she stopped on the lowest step. She looked around the room quickly and clapped her hands; Alex and a number of nobles flinched.  
Creaking, the portal opened and Samson and Lorelei entered, dressed in the finest clothes in light green and white. They stepped forward and knelt down, and as if Cardinal Bartholomew was in a hurry, she immediately began the coronation ceremony.

"Kneel down for your king," the herald shouted shrilly as Samson stood atop the throne pedestal and held a trembling Lorelei by the hand. "Kneel down for King Samson and Queen Lorelei, blessed by the Great Mother!" With a rustling sound, the nobles knelt down and Alex, as well as the other guards in the Great Hall, bowed their heads. Only when the sovereign couple had taken their seats on the throne did those present straighten up again.  
"So now be silent, for the king deigns to speak", the herald sounded again with his strenuously shrill voice, although it was already dead silent.  
"A king," Samson began seriously, and probably Lorelei and Alex were the only ones who heard his sigh, "serves his country and his people first and foremost. And one of the most important points in this is stability. To have stability, you need a future." He paused and Alex looked over at Sebastian, who was as white as chalk and trembling.  
"The future belongs to my successor. Sebastian Appleberry, Prince of Whitehill, step forward."  
For a moment Alex feared Sebastian would faint, but Gudrun gave him a gentle nudge and he stumbled forward, staggering uncertainly the few steps to the pedestal and kneeling there as if the execution awaited him.  
"Sebastian, are you ready to take on the burden of the inheritance until the Great Mother gives me a child?" Samson wanted to know and Alex could see Lorelei lowering her eyes as he said these words.  
"No," Sebastian said so softly that for a tiny moment, Alex thought he'd misheard. "No, I'm not ready for it."  
"Excuse me?" Samson asked, honestly stunned.  
"It's a burden too heavy for me to bear." Sebastian's voice was shaking and he spoke eerily softly. "I am not made for throne and crown."  
Alex bit his lip and prayed Sebastian didn't do what Alex thought he would.  
"I hereby renounce all claims to the Crown of Whitehill that my birth confers upon me," Sebastian said, louder and clearer than his words before. A murmur went through the crowd and Alex closed his eyes for a moment. He had feared it.  
"I allow you to retain the title of a prince," Samson explained, sounding strangely dazed. He made a subtle gesture and Sebastian clumsily got on his feet, bowed deeply, muttered "my king" and stalked back to his place. Alex stared at his brother's crown and deliberately avoided Ariel's gaze.  
"Sir Alexander Appleberry, Prince of Whitehill, step forward," Samson said after a short pause.  
Alex did not move. In matters of state such as these, there had always a knight to stand behind the King's throne - or at least a member of the royal family who was entitled to carry a sword. There was a movement on the left side of the crowd and then Alex spotted Christian- and was suddenly actually happy to see the bastard. He, like Alex and Samson, had been carrying a sword permanently since the attack on their father and slipped past the nobles. It must have been a strange sight, thought Alex, as the bastard light-footedly hurried up the pedestal and took Alex's place, so that he could climb down the other side of the pedestal and then kneel in front of it with crunching armor.  
"Alexander, are you prepared to take on the burden of the inheritance until the Great Mother gives me a child?" Samson calmly asked, and quite honestly, what choice did Alex have?  
"Yes, I'm ready," he answered seriously. Ariel was the elder twin, but the cardinal would have rather crowned Christian than a sorceress. Cardinal Bartholomew stepped forward, a thin gold crown-ring in her hand, and pressed it onto Alex's head.  
"Sir Alexander, Prince of the Crown, heir to the throne," Samson declared.  
Alex rose, bowed to Samson and Lorelei, and then turned around to bow to the others present. Only now did he look at Ariel. She was suddenly very pale and seemed worried, next to her Matt had also turned pale and looked as if he would regret a lot of decisions he had made in the last weeks. On the other hand, Sebastian had disappeared and Gudrun seemed slightly shaken. And as Alex stood there, the so-called guard of honor behind him and the nobility in front of him, who lowered their heads devotedly because of him...  
Well, now he was what he had never wanted to be: important.

~

Sieges were even more boring than they were described in the tactics books Sev had read. A well-fortified and supplied city like Crown's Port could hold out for months and Sev could not afford that. But the specialized troops, the so-called wall-breakers, also needed some time. Flavius' only reaction to Sev's sigh when he looked over to the city from the well-known hill was to cross his arms in front of his chest.  
"Severio..."  
Sev turned his head and nodded at Arco as he came strolling along. The commander of the legionnaires handed him a wineskin and Sev gratefully accepted it. But the said gratitude remained within narrow limits, because the wine was almost diluted beyond recognition.  
"I have discussed with Tullius whether we should perhaps take care of the fleet," Arco said thoughtfully.  
"And what is your opinion in this discussion?" Sev asked critically. Arco shrugged.  
"I think we should take advantage of the sea fire-"  
Sev choked on his wine. "Wait, we have sea fire in our luggage and I don't know about it?"  
Arco hesitated, then said: "Apparently."  
"Damn it, let's fucking use this stuff! Who knows how many marines are hiding on the ships, waiting for a liberation army?"  
Now Arco shrugged and nodded at the same time. "My words. It is too risky for Tullius."  
"Risky." Sev snorted. "Risky is having an unknown force at your back." That was something he liked far more in bed than on the battlefield.  
"We'd better not use it all." Flavius carefully threw in. Although Sev had given him permission to speak before the higher ranks, he was very reserved with his opinion. "Ringbay also has a fleet with marines."  
Sev and Arco nodded.  
"I'll discuss the matter with Tullius," Arco said, gave an informal salute and turned away after Sev had returned the wineskin to him without much regret.  
"I hate waiting," muttered Flavius and Sev nodded thoughtfully. Then he remarked:  
"I have something that might pass the time a little."  
Flavius raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean your delicate flower?"  
Sev nodded; the leader of his bodyguard was a good-looking guy, but he didn't like him very much - otherwise he might have offered himself.  
"You know I'm not that into men."  
Sev laughed softly. "You can say _no_ if you want, but Cyril has a skilled mouth."  
For a moment Flavius hesitated, then he nodded. "Better than nothing."

~

"Where's Sebastian?"  
Alex and Ariel shrugged in unison, Samson sighed.  
"He promised me he was going to take an advisory position, so where is he?"  
"He's not at the library, I just come from there," Ariel said lightly.  
"He's not with Matthew either, he's sitting with Gudrun and Lord Foxglove in the Great Hall having a late lunch," Christian remarked with a fine frown. Samson sighed again, this time clearly annoyed. In an almost devotional gesture, he put his fingertips on the documents in front of him on the table.  
"I will call to arms."  
"What?", his three siblings were amazed. Alex, who had tried to reach for a chair, missed it.  
"Did Sophia...?", Ariel started, but broke off when Samson shook his head directly.  
"No. I'm talking about Silvershore."  
"Silvershore?" Alex asked irritated and pulled back the chair to sit in the end.  
"At this moment, Crown's Port is probably under siege," Samson said slowly and strangely emphasized.  
"By whom?" Ariel's irritation was palpable.  
"The Empire."  
"What?" the twins did again.  
"Fuck.", it came from Christian- not very decent, but quite fitting.  
"There was a poison attack in Crown's Port which failed and killed several servants. In Swanford, Nathaniel is severely weakened and Theodore is dead."  
"Well, there's no pity for Theodore," Christian murmured, and though they all probably agreed with him, he got a sharp look from Samson.  
"The attempt on Father's life fits the picture."  
"Arik and Nicholas... where are they? In Swanford or in Shellhaven?" Ariel wondered anxiously.  
"Neither. Nicholas wanted to go to the manor house by the coast," Alex replied slowly. That damned Severio! Was it all for show? An act of espionage to pretend that the weather was good?  
"Where did this allegedly so small colony get such an army from?" Christian asked interested and Samson shrugged.  
"Probably got shipped off. But then again, I don't know anyone who's ever been there. But that doesn't really matter. I'm not gonna sit here and watch a foreign army ravage our friends' land."  
Ariel nodded seriously and Alex frowned.  
"What about the dispute between Sunplains and Rockvalley?"  
"It's only a dispute so far, and quite frankly, I couldn't care less. Sophia's getting a little overdramatic at her old age and if Nathaniel dies... well, you know yourself that Nicholas won't make the best king."  
Because Alex knew Samson was right, he kept his mouth shut. They had just ended the war against Threehills and were already rushing into a new one - the blood moon had brought a whole lot of disaster. And yet an agitated heat spread through his stomach which was almost scary. He was a knight and would go to war. He glanced quickly at Christian, who nodded, barely noticeable. Brothers in arms, Alex thought and nodded at Samson.  
"Give your orders, Samson."  
Christian, who had remained standing, saluted. "Your knights are ready."

~

"Matt, wait."  
Matt paused and turned halfway around. Lorelei came rushing toward him and he gave her an honest smile. The little petite queen had taken him to her heart for some reason and he saw no reason to repay her with a polite distance.  
"What news is there, Queen Lorelei?", he asked with an implied bow and she gave him a pat on the arm.  
"Don't do that. Listen, Matt, Samson will certainly not tell you so directly - out of politeness and because he has other things on his mind - but he would like to see you and Ariel married soon."  
Matt nodded.  
"Very soon," Lorelei specified seriously.  
"Okay... and how soon is this _very soon_?" He raised an eyebrow; a certain tension had been in the air since the morning, but nobody had bothered to tell him about it yet. Lorelei shrugged.  
"You could ask him yourself, but you might want to make it a formal engagement first."  
He nodded. "Then I guess I'll talk to Ariel..."  
Now Lorelei nodded. "Save the drama for the public," she said with a wink and he sighed in an acted out manner.  
"I know, otherwise she'll say _no_."  
Lorelei giggled gracefully behind her hand and he bowed his head in greeting.

"Come in."  
Matt opened the door, but he remained in the corridor where the guards could see him. Ariel looked through a pile of documents on the desk with a very serious expression on her face and gave Matt just a quick glance.  
"Come in."  
He cleared his throat suggestively. "It wouldn't be proper." Her answer was a roll of the eyes.  
"Come in and close the door, I don't want to talk to you across the castle. What's up?"  
He glanced at the guards, who professionally ignored him, and reluctantly entered. Carefully he closed the door and cleared his throat again.  
"Lorelei mentioned that Samson would like to see it, if..." He paused.  
Ariel stuffed the documents into a box and hurried to the adjacent room- her bedroom.  
"I'd appreciate it if you'd listen to me."  
"I'm listening to you, don't worry. What about Samson?" Something creaked loud.  
"What are you doing?" Matt frowned and stopped in the middle of the living room.  
"I'm packing," she replied busily.  
"You're packing? Why? Where are you going?" Confused, he finally took a few steps towards the bedroom door. They looked at each other in irritation.  
"We're going to war," she said, as if he must already know about it. And because his confusion was apparently quite visible, she immediately declared: "The Empire has attacked Silvershore and is probably besieging Crown's Port right now."  
He blinked in amazement. "Great Mother, are you serious?"  
She nodded. "There have been poison attacks there and in Ringbay. Theodore Elderblossom is dead."  
"Oh. And Whitehill is interfering directly? What about Darkmoore?"  
"Darkmoore? I don't know." She shrugged. "But, yes, we are interfering directly. Alex and I spent most summers growing up with Arik and Nicholas somewhere on the coast and Arik's mother practically adopted us." She ran her fingers through her hair and grimaced in disgust. "This bastard of an imperial vicegerent was _here_. Celebrated and laughed with us and Alex made friends with him."  
"I thought Severio was very nice too, but that doesn't mean anything," Matt said softly, and she nodded grimly before turning to her open dress chest. Matt opened his mouth in surprise.  
"Wait. Wait, you're not thinking of joining the army, are you?"  
"Of course I am," she said without turning around. "I'm a sorceress, I'm useful, and I'm certainly not going to let Alex go off on his own. If someone threatens my friends, I won't stand by and watch."  
He could feel himself going pale, but before he could find words, she raised her eyes. Whatever she was holding in her hand sank back into the chest and she straightened up.  
"Will you come with us?"  
"I... I'm not a fighter." He almost stammered. "I have no business in an army unless you think we can negotiate with Severio and his generals." Supposedly not.  
"Your magic could be very useful." She said it so business-like, it made him sick. He shook his head and she shrugged. "Your call. If you don't want to come, I can adjust your shield so that you can return home."  
"Home? To... to Seven Hills?" He was hot and cold at the same time and he had to hold on to the door frame. She shrugged again.  
"Anywhere. I only ask you not to let your magic run amok in Feather Springs. Besides, I don't think Samson would be too happy if you stayed here either."  
Somehow he couldn't quite follow her and she sighed.  
"If you don't come with me, the courtship is obsolete. On the other hand, nobody said you should use your magic if you come with me."  
"Ariel, I-"  
"Your call, Matt." No _"please come along"_ or anything, nothing.  
"I'm nothing but a fascinating mystery to you, am I?" That was the first thing he got out.  
"No." She shook her head softly. "You're a friend. But you have no reason to get involved in this, so it's perfectly within your rights to stay out of it. But personally, I think the imperial threat is more important than one man. And accordingly, I will certainly not stand by and watch Silvershore sink into the rubble, Ringbay on their heels, and not lift a finger until they cross our border." He understood perfectly well what she was about to say and nodded.  
"I understand," he said silently.  
"We can talk tonight. For the moment..." She did not finish the sentence and he nodded again.  
His face burned and his fingers trembled as he left her rooms.

~

"You did _what?"_  
"I put facts on the table, Alex, nothing more."  
"Oh, knowing you, that was nothing more than a cool _'come along or leave it'_ , Ariel, and he doesn't deserve it!" Alex was furious. He was seldom _really_ angry, but Ariel managed to make it happen every once in a while.  
"He said it himself, he's not a knight, and-"  
"It doesn't matter!" he interrupted her. "I don't give a shit what magical problem is the real reason for this courtship, but you both did things for it which make it very questionable if you just stop this now."  
"A war is hardly-" She interrupted herself and gritted her teeth. Alex took a deep breath and she lowered her eyes.  
"Ariel," he started more softly, "for most people the prospect of war is pure horror. For me, fighting is the only thing I know how to do, and as a sorceress it's easy for you. Matt's just a diplomat, he likes you, and you just broke every rule of courtesy." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, she sighed.  
"What do you want from me now?"  
"I want you to apologize, damn it! Break off your relationship if you really want to, but apologize for your rude behavior."  
"Alex, I-"  
"I'll ask him about it, Ariel."  
"Alex..."  
"And if you don't, I'll chain you myself to the dungeon and leave you here."  
Her face became expressionless. "You wouldn't dare."  
"I would." They measured each other with glances and after an uncomfortably long moment she gave in.  
"I will apologize," she murmured softly.  
Alex just nodded. Though they were not even officially engaged, Matt was already considered by many to be part of the family - war or no war, but this was going to cause a scandal.

~

Sev laboriously suppressed a panicky scream as he was shaken from a confused nightmare into a dark reality.  
"Sev... _Sev_..."  
"F-Flavius?"  
"Yes."  
"By all the gods..." Sev rubbed his eyes. Somewhere behind Flavius, Cyril stood holding a lantern. "What's wrong?"  
"We've taken hostages."  
Sev dropped his hands. "What? When? Who?"  
"More or less just now. A patrol practically stumbled right into the exit of a secret passage when it opened." Flavius smiled contentedly. "Fortune has mercy on us."  
"Looks like it," Sev agreed with him and decided to make a long prayer to the fickle goddess in the morning. "And which guests do we have now?"  
Flavius' grin grew wider. "The queen, her daughter-in-law and granddaughter."  
"You've got to be kidding me!"  
"No." Flavius shook his head. "The guards were killed, but the three ladies are unharmed."  
Sev nodded thoughtfully, and nodded at Cyril as there was a knock at the tent. Tullius was let in and the General knelt down beside Sev's cot.  
"The three are sheltered and heavily guarded. Do you want to send a message directly to the city or wait until morning?"  
Frowning, Sev thought. He had already met Queen Dorothy twice, and if he estimated her age and that of her sons correctly, her grandchild couldn't be very old yet. "I will send a message directly. See that the child is treated well."  
Tullius nodded, raised and bowed, then stepped out.  
"What are you up to?" Flavius wanted to know, when Sev rose with a tired sigh and waved at Cyril, he needed light to write.  
"Inform King Arnold of who we have here."  
"I doubt if he will surrender."  
"I doubt it too, but at least Prince Damian will want his child back."  
"And you will just send the girl back to him?" Flavius asked incredulously.  
"Of course not. But Damian will give his father a strong opinion, once they get the queen back in two pieces."  
"Oh." said Flavius and nodded.  
"Oh," Cyril did, and out of the corner of his eye Sev saw the elf bastard turning pale.  
"You don't have to watch," Sev said lightly, and Cyril pulled a face.  
"Will you do it yourself?"  
Sev nodded and reached for paper and ink. "Of course I will. This is a question of honor and decency. Do you think I'd let some lowly legionnaire execute a queen?"  
Cyril pulled a different face now, but Sev moved his attention to the message he had to write.

~

The war scared him. Josh and Martin had been on the front lines again and again in the long war against Whitehill and had told their little brother about it. When Matt had nightmares, he dreamt about his magic or the war. And now he had to choose between those nightmares becoming reality.  
Without Ariel around, the shield would die and then, according to her earlier estimate, he would only have a few months before the seal broke of its own accord. Maybe he died, maybe not. But if he didn't, every magic user would know what he was- and they would lock him away somewhere, maybe study and analyze him. According to official sources, there was no living necromancer in the Eastern Kingdoms, so there was no one who could have taught him how to master the magic.  
If he accompanied Ariel to war, he would face its horrors. He would have to watch people he knew die. Maybe even Alex and Ariel would be killed, maybe even himself - he couldn't fight, couldn't defend himself. And as much as he didn't want to say goodbye to Ariel at all, no matter what way, there was a quiet fear that sooner or later she would ask him to take the seal off and use his power when he went with her.

A knock tore him out of his gloomy thoughts and confused he blinked. He had not been aware that he had returned to his room after lunch. There was another knock.  
"Come in."  
Sebastian stuck his head through the door and seemed relieved. "Hey..." He slipped into the room and Matt gave him a tired nod. "You, uh... seem a little... uh... well... can I ask you something anyway?"  
Matt made an inviting gesture. "Go for it."  
Sebastian nodded and kneaded his fingertips as he looked at his shoe tips for a moment and chewed on his lower lip. Matt waited patiently; with the chaos of thoughts at the back of his mind, his curiosity was limited.  
"Gudrun doesn't want to embarrass herself in the cathedral," Sebastian finally started and Matt raised an eyebrow.  
"One can embarrass oneself when getting married?"  
A strange smile flitted across Sebastian's face. "She wants to practice kissing."  
Matt chuckled amused.  
"I told her that I absolutely cannot do that and... she said I should get someone to teach me."  
The chuckling died down and Matt looked at Sebastian critically. He turned bright red and looked everywhere but at Matt.  
"I had lent her a few books of poetry. As I noticed afterwards, I had forgotten the initial version of _the poem_ in one, but she had obviously taken it out."  
"What's your point?" Matt asked, carefully. This poem would be a wonderful way to stir up the rumor mill. Sebastian, if possible, became even redder in the face.  
"She dropped a few remarks. I mean, we read poetry together like you advised me to, and she's... I mean... I think she likes you. And I think she likes the idea that we..."  
"And which _we_ are you talking about?"  
"You and me."  
Matt was confused. "I'm not following."  
Sebastian sighed and ran both hands through his hair that desperately needed a cut, even if he wanted to wear it long. "She doesn't really want to kiss _me_ , Matt, she just... well. I think she just wants me to kiss _you_. Because she likes the idea. Or maybe because then she'll imagine that you'd kiss her instead of me. I don't know. It's complicated."  
And that wasn't something Matt actually wanted to think about, especially now. Sebastian seemed embarrassed and nervous and Matt leaned with one shoulder against the wall next to the window.  
"And what exactly do you want from me now?"  
"Would you teach me how to kiss?" The question was quiet and shy.  
"Sebastian..." Matt said, admonishingly. Not so much because it actually hurt his values and beliefs, but because he didn't know what to say.  
"It's only a kiss!" Still shy, but this time with a hint of desperation.  
"Maybe, but... Even if I knew how to do it right-"  
"Excuse me? I thought you and Ariel..." Now Sebastian was amazed.  
"Sebastian, really, we're not even engaged. I don't care what she did with other guys"- it wasn't one hundred percent true, but he didn't have to elaborate on that now- "but I do play by the rules." That wasn't a hundred percent true either, but like mentioned, he didn't have to rub Sebastian's nose in it.  
"Oh." Thoughtfully, Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck and then hesitantly approached. "Then... then we could... I mean, Ariel knows what she's doing, doesn't she? Don't you want to... um..."  
Matt looked at him skeptically. "So you think we should practice kissing together."  
"Yes...?"  
"Isn't it a bit pointless if nobody knows how to do it?"  
"Oh... um... well... I mean, it's just a kiss, it can't be that hard." Sebastian looked so hopeful and Matt tried hard not to make a tortured face. If there hadn't been that awful conversation with Ariel, he might have thought about it- even knowing that Sebastian would enjoy it more than was good- but for now, he didn't care if he was good at kissing or not. Sebastian interpreted his hesitation differently, however, and leaned against the wall next to him, slumped down a bit and tried to smile.  
"You cut yourself again while shaving," he noticed quietly and raised his hand to gently touch Matt's cheek.  
"Happens." Matt shrugged.  
"You could grow a beard. It would look good."  
"Beards are for old men, Seb. I don't like the look it gives me." Sebastian's fingertips were still on his cheek and he swallowed a sigh. Sebastian wouldn't let go unless he said _yes_ or _no_ clearly.  
"I'm just saying it would look good."  
"And you would look better if you weren't so thin. You need to eat more and maybe exercise a little," Matt retorted. He didn't want to make Sebastian's heartache any worse, didn't want to kiss another man, but then again- what was a kiss?  
"I don't want to look like Samson or Alex," Sebastian murmured uneasily.  
"Oh, you're far from that. You look more like you'd break if someone hugged you."  
He blushed and looked actually startled when Matt hesitantly raised his hand to wipe a strand from his eye.  
"You should cut your hair."  
"I think I like it long."  
"You'll still have to take care of it before you can compete with Ariel."  
Sebastian blushed even more and lowered his eyes; when he lifted them again there was something in them that actually reminded Matt of Ariel.

Afterwards he couldn't say how it really happened, but he kissed Sebastian, one hand buried in his hair. Sebastian's hands were on Matt's chest, clinging to the tunic and twitching as Matt nibbled on his lower lip. And then Sebastian's tongue slid into his mouth. Even though he tasted of apples differently than his sister, Matt found himself mentally in the nocturnal garden. He lost himself in the kiss, somewhere between shy tenderness and curiosity and light lust. He ignored the muffled sound from the background, could not suppress a soft moan as a hand rubbed across his hard trouser front, but then irritation followed when he felt a breeze of air on bare skin and no next kiss came. His blink turned into an eye-opening as Sebastian's mouth closed around him, warm and moist, and slid along it. He gasped.  
"What... what are you doing?"  
The answer was a hum that seemed to vibrate down to his bones. He moaned softly and had to hold on to the wall as Sebastian sucked on him and as the tip of his tongue tickled the small slit, he made a pitiful sound.  
"Seb... don't..." The weak protest had the opposite effect. "Hnngh..." Sex could break his seal. Was this sex? How did you define this?  
Sebastian hummed again and Matt's hips bucked forward. The seal...  
"Stop..." He pulled Sebastian back by the hair a little rough. "Don't! Stop it."  
"Don't you like it?", Sebastian wanted to know insecure, his face red, his lips slightly swollen.  
"Yes, I do," Matt reluctantly admitted.  
"Then why don't you want it? I mean, I _want_ to do this for you, I do! I-"  
"Sebastian..."  
Sebastian paused and suddenly tried to hide the tent in his pants.  
"Why don't you know how to kiss, but you know pretty well how to do _this_?" Matt asked thoughtfully and carefully took two steps back before sorting out his pants. Sebastian's face became almost blank and he stared at his hands.  
"Somebody made me do it," he finally said quietly and all the remains of Matt's arousal evaporated. "But I enjoyed it, you know. I really did. I like doing it. Please, let me do it for you."  
"No. No, Sebastian, that... that's not right." Matt didn't want to think twice about who would have that much power over a prince to force him to do something like this without fear of punishment. Josh could have done it. But _Sebastian's_ brothers...?  
A knock ended the awkward situation pretty effectively.  
Hastily Matt pulled the tunic over the half laced up trousers and Sebastian came staggeringly on his feet. There was another knock.  
"Matt? Are you there?", it came muffled through the door. Ariel.  
"Yes, I-" he opened the door, "I'm here." A cautious, somewhat shy smile tugged at her lips and, surprisingly, she was wearing the clothes of a princess.  
"May I come in?"  
"Um... sure." Matt stepped back and let her in, Sebastian cleared his throat in the background.  
"I'll... uh... I'll leave you to it, then." In a somewhat strange stance he scurried out and Ariel raised an eyebrow. When Matt closed the door, she asked, with a slightly amused undertone:  
"Do I want to know why Sebastian looked like he had menstrual pain and your belt is on the floor?"  
Matt blushed hard, and for a moment he wondered if he should ask her about this _'someone who had forced Sebastian'_ , but he didn't; it wasn't the right moment.  
"No," he said instead and went to pick up his belt and put it back on. "What brings you here, Princess?" he asked because Ariel said nothing more.  
"I wanted to apologize," she replied, not looking as if she really wanted to do so. "I'm sorry."  
"Let me guess, you're only here because Alex said something."  
Caught, she looked down.  
"Then please leave out everything Alex would want you to say now and only say what you really want to say," he asked her and for a moment she chewed on her lower lip.  
"I'm not apologizing for _what_ I said, because I really mean it. But I guess I could have said it a little nicer."  
"Indeed." Matt mumbled, barely audibly, in between.  
"Nobody forces you to use your magic when you go to war with us," she continued in earnest. "It's entirely up to you what you do with it. It's entirely your decision, Matt, because the matter is too big to be talked into by anyone. However..." She paused and tried to smile. "I'd be glad to have you accompany us. Alex would be happy too." The dull feeling that she would persuade him to use his magic for war grew stronger. She let out a faint laugh that somehow seemed out of place. "You know, among all the young knights, pompous nobles and wizards, you're really a refreshing personality."  
"Thank you...?" He wasn't sure how to take it, but he filed it as a compliment for now. She just nodded and stroked a strand from her forehead before taking a breath.  
"We're leaving the day after tomorrow. I need an answer by tomorrow night." Without waiting for an answer, she turned around, but suddenly an almost painful heat spread into Matt's chest. He did not want this to be farewell. He wanted to kiss her like he had just kissed Sebastian, to hold her hand and laugh with her.  
"Ariel..."  
A hand stretched out to the door she paused and turned around again. "Yes?"  
He swallowed and forced a smile on his lips; he had made his decision. "How much sob stuff can you take?"  
She frowned a little irritated, then smiled wryly. "If I have to, a whole lot."  
Reluctantly, he walked up to her and took her hand. Gently he breathed a kiss on the back of her hand and she sighed.  
"Love and war make for wonderful drama, don't they?"  
"Indeed, dearest princess, indeed."

~

The sun had passed its zenith and since there was no reply from King Arnold, Sev, accompanied by Flavius and Tullius, stepped under the awning under which the three ladies of Silvershore had been waiting since the morning. Dorothy looked much older than he remembered her and she pulled a face in unhappy surprise when she recognised him.  
"Severio."  
"Speak to the prince with more respect." Flavius growled- Sev had instructed him to impersonate the sinister bodyguard.  
" _Prince_? Prince of what?", Dorothy wanted to know with a frown, while Princess Catherine next to her, worst fears written on her face, pressed her little daughter against her.  
"I am the son of the Emperor, dear Queen, and therefore a Prince of the Empire," Sev explained with a fine smile.  
The queen turned ashen.  
"But tell me this: who had the most foolish idea to use this secret passage?"  
"My husband," Dorothy said gracefully after a moment. For a second Sev wondered if Arnold was really stupid enough to believe in the success of the plan, but that would have cast a rather bad light on Prince Damien and his advisors. Maybe it was more of an act of despair - so soon after the siege began, that said a lot about the status of the city.  
"All right." Sev nodded narrowly and turned to Tullius. "There is no news from the city, is there?"  
"No, my prince. And the ultimatum set was the noontide." Sev nodded again, gave Catherine a scrutinizing look and a pitying look to Dorothy.  
"You know, if it wasn't for this girl, you'd think the King wanted to get rid of you."  
Both ladies made an indignant sound.  
"Believe me, my message was definitely not to be misunderstood. I speak your language well." He sighed and shook his head, then turned to two legionaries. "Prepare a cart." The two saluted and marched away. Sev had no idea about children, but the little princess was probably not much older than four or five. Slowly he knelt down in front of her and she hid herself even further in her mother's skirts.  
"Delilah, right?"  
She nodded silently.  
"Cover your ears and squeeze your eyes very tight. Do not open either until your mother tells you to, okay?"  
With big blue eyes, she nodded and followed his request. Smoothly he stood up again and joined Dorothy. She backed away and with gentle force he grabbed her arm to lead her aside a little.  
"You're not serious! You can't be serious," Catherine called out in horror. Dorothy was as white as chalk, but astonishingly composed; perhaps she had expected nothing else.  
"What kind of man would I be if I did not carry out my threats?" Sev asked politely and Catherine pressed Delilah to herself in silent bewilderment.  
A distance from the awning, Sev stopped.  
"Look at your city and pray if you want to."  
Dorothy knelt down and folded her hands in prayer, her lower lip trembled a little, but otherwise she was incredibly calm - you could admire her for it. Sev drew his freshly sharpened sword and briefly weighed it in his hand, then he looked over his shoulder and nodded at Flavius. He nodded back and Sev looked at the graying head of the Queen again.  
"Oh Fortuna, you are as cruel as you are beautiful," he murmured in his mother tongue. "Perhaps we humans should consider ourselves lucky that Mars never gave you his attention."  
His sword whizzed through the air. It was the first time he was killing outside of combat, and it didn't feel very good. But it was necessary.

Two days and a whole lot of frustrating messages later Sev sent another messenger away with an annoyed sigh, while Flavius shook his head next to him.  
"Do you think he'll go for it?" At some point in this drama Damian must have taken the reins from his father, because Sev was now negotiating with the prince.  
"I'm betting on it, yeah."  
Flavius frowned. "He will want his wife back."  
"His daughter," Sev countered convinced and held out his hand to Flavius. "We bet? If you're right, I'll give you Cyril for two weeks."  
"Ew.", Cyril made unhappy in the background.  
"And if you're right?", Flavius wanted to know critically.  
"You may keep Mars company for one night."  
Now it was Flavius who made "ew". "Under these circumstances, I won't bet with you."  
"What a pity." Sev grinned, mainly because Cyril seemed relieved. "Let me know if you have any news." Sev waved dismissively in Flavius' direction and then stepped to the back of his tent. Cyril sat there on a cushion and sewed whatever.  
"You really would have given me to Flavius for two entire weeks?" With big eyes, the elf bastard looked up.  
"Flavius likes to forget that people here think differently. Little Delilah is Damian's successor, he doesn't need a son." Sev sat down next to Cyril, who put aside his material and needle. "The probability that Flavius would have won the bet is therefore small. On the other hand, it's my right to lend you out when it suits me."  
Cyril made a face and Sev caressed his cheek. The boy was more servant than pleasure slave and appreciated Sev's good treatment, but he sometimes forgot his place above it. Slowly Sev bent forward and kissed him, Cyril kissed back and a little later he snuggled into Sev's arms, his fingertips tracing Sev's mark.  
"Severio...?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Can we... can we spend the night together?"  
Surprised, Sev drew his head back and looked at Cyril, who blushed. Sev had as Mars his legionaries and only let Cyril provide him with a little tenderness and kisses; and since Cyril usually didn't enjoy his existence as slave, Sev was astonished by this question.  
"Sure," he replied belatedly, and a cautiously shy smile appeared on Cyril's face.

When the sun was setting, Sev put aside the just arrived message and winked at Cyril.  
"I would have won."  
Cyril smiled without looking up from his sewing.  
Sev left the tent, nodded to Flavius, and together they walked through the camp to the princesses' tent. On Sev's nod they brought them outside and Catherine looked at him anxiously; Sev had not seen her since the execution of the queen.  
"Delilah..."  
The girl looked up.  
"We're gonna take you home."  
"With Mama?"  
"No, darling, Mama must stay here. I have some important matters to discuss with Prince Severio. You go home, Mama will be late." Catherine said affectionately but seriously before Sev could answer.  
"Julius!" Flavius beckoned an older man of Sev's bodyguard who bowed respectfully to Catherine and Delilah; a groom brought a horse.  
"Julius will bring Delilah to the city gates as agreed with your husband," Sev explained to Catherine while Julius mounted. Rather unceremoniously, Flavius lifted the girl up to Julius, who saluted and rode off immediately.  
"Tomorrow at sunrise, Damian will open the gates for us," Sev said after a moment of silence.  
"What will happen to me?", Catherine wanted to know legitimately. "Will you keep me as... as a pledge? A kind of playmate?" Now that she no longer had to keep up the facade for her daughter, it crumbled and a tear rolled down her cheek. Sev shook his head.  
"You are war loot, Catherine. Our God of War can be cruel, he is demanding and hungry in many ways, but he will not tolerate any violation of war laws. Well, basically, you're not really a prisoner anymore because Damian set you free, but the other gods are no friends of rape and the like either."  
Catherine fell to her knees, sobbing. "I will do so willingly if you let me live."  
Surprised, Sev raised an eyebrow. "You would rather be reduced to a slave than die? Have you so little self-respect?"  
"To stay alive means to have a chance of seeing my daughter again," she whispered choked. Which basically meant she was waiting for a good opportunity to run away.  
Sev sighed and drew his sword.  
"No! No! Please! I'll do anything you want, but let me live!" She screamed as Flavius pulled her to her feet. Sev let her scream and beg for a while and then put his sword away.  
"All right. So you want to become a slave just to stay alive?"  
With tears streaming down her face she nodded.  
"Flavius, leave her to the cavalry officers until midnight. After that, Catherine, you may decide again."

It did not surprise Sev one bit that she decided to die afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical fun fact:
> 
> #8: The magically bred and magically trained messenger birds were completely wiped out by the empire, along with the knowledge that went with it. In Sam's time they are nothing more than a legend.


	9. A song of war and love

"Well, do you regret your pompous words already?"   
Matt's answer to Devon's amused question was, first of all, a groan, because after five long days in the saddle, everything hurt. Then he patted his mare on the neck and finally Owen answered for him:   
"Honestly, would you regret marrying a woman like her?"   
"You, my friend, would regret it after three weeks at the latest," Will prophesied gloomily in Owen's direction, adding to Matt: "Don't listen to them. From what I've heard, your proposal was quite poetic."   
"Pompous!" Devon crowed and Matt sighed. He reached for the reins of Owen's gelding and nodded at Will.   
"Pompous, poetic, dramatic... call it what you want. I overdid it anyway." Together they led the horses to their temporary resting place where they would be taken care of.   
"Did she really laugh tears?" Will asked carefully. None of the six young knights Alex had assigned as guards for Ariel and Matt had been in the Great Hall at that time, but rumors were faster than the wind.   
"Yes." Again, Matt sighed. After several days of jokes and sideswipes, he didn't even blush, but he was still embarrassed. Will gave him a sympathetic smile.   
"If your proposal had been any different, Ariel might have called it lame. At least you'll have something to tell your grandchildren in good conscience."   
"If I survive the war and the constant mocking," Matt returned and nodded to one of the travelling grooms.   
"Don't be so pessimistic. I can't imagine a small trading colony being able to build such a formidable force. Even with soldiers shipped in." Will shook his head and Matt choked on his answer as Alex, Stan and Morgan emerged from the bushes, all three more or less wet and undressed.   
"The pond is that way," Morgan needlessly explained. They nodded at each other and Matt and Will pushed their way through the bushes.   
"But they must have a certain army if they were to conquer half of Silvershore and lay siege to Crown's Port," Matt replied belatedly, then nodded at the small group of soldiers who were kneeling by the pond and washing away the road dust. He almost missed Will's shake of the head, for the knight was already pulling his shirt over his head.   
"Silvershore has a miserable army." The shirt flew off to one side while Matt merely slid his sleeves up over his elbows and dipped his hands in the cool pond water. "The standing army is almost ridiculous... Okay, it _is_ ridiculous. Come on, undress."   
Matt got a critical glance from Will and shook his head. "That's enough." Ignoring Will's frown, he said: "What was that about the Silvershore army?" He rubbed his arms with water and Will said, simultaneously reaching for a small bucket someone had prudently left standing:   
"The standing army is ridiculous and the reservists are pathetic. The navy is excellent, but it doesn't seem to do much good in this case."   
"Hmm," Matt did, dumping water on his face; he could feel the sand on his skin as he rubbed his forehead.   
"Ringbay's famous for its cavalry, but their infantry isn't much of a big hit either," Will went on, squealing softly as he kneeled and poured the bucket of water over his head. "Pffruuh... whoa! Great Mother, that feels good."   
Matt laughed softly and ran his wet fingers through his hair. "I'll still pass." The knight wiped the dripping hair from his face and looked at Matt critically again.   
"You haven't washed properly since we left, Matt. I really like the smell of roasted hazelnuts, but I think with the summer heat one went bad in the pantry."   
Matt blushed, but unfortunately it was true. "That's a very nice way to let me know I stink."   
Will shrugged. "I don't understand your problem. I mean, you don't have to jump in the pond naked if you don't want to, but you should at least take your shirt off."   
The problem was that Matt didn't have a rational explanation for all the scars, and he didn't want to show them to the world.   
"If you have a problem with bare skin, you'll soon have a _real_ problem, namely Ariel," Will continued with a raised brow, interpreting Matt's hesitation in his own way.   
"It's not that," Matt muttered and bit his lip. Will was the most reasonable of the crazy bunch of knights Alex called his friends, and Matt liked his calm, level-headed manner. The other soldiers, who came and went in quick succession, paid no attention to them at all, and so Matt finally took off his shirt.   
"Whose plans did you spoil once too often?" Will asked in surprise. "Your fathers'?"   
"My brothers'," Matt replied quietly, turning back to the pond, partly because he didn't want to meet Will's gaze.   
"You don't have to worry about your scars. Oh." Apparently the knight had discovered the scars on his back.   
Matt let the cool water run down his chest and back with actual relief and Will cleared his throat.   
"Joshua or Martin?"   
"Joshua."   
"It doesn't exactly cast a friendly light on the new king."   
"Oh, I suppose if you ask his wife, he's the kindest and most loving and best man on earth. He's just a shitty big brother and master of the house." The bitterness crept unintentionally into Matt's voice and the embarrassed look to Will was not entirely on purpose, but he just nodded.   
"I'll keep it to myself."   
"Thank you."

Matt, not knowing what else to do, sat with his _guard_ around a small fire and listened to their playful bickering. For now, Zack and Owen enthusiastically discussed the sorceresses' appearance, accompanied by critical comments from Devon and Morgan. Samson had sent the cavalry out to help his neighbors as quickly as possible, accompanied by the mounted knights and mounted archers, as well as volunteers of wizards and sorceresses. In two days they would reach the Pearl River and if Matt - who had absolutely no idea about war logistics - had understood correctly, they would make even faster progress if the boats - or were they called ships?- would transport their supplies and luggage.  
"Yeah, sure, Zack, and tomorrow you will spend the night with her." Devon rolled his eyes.   
"Why not? She's very pretty. And she was flirting with me." Zack had been saying that all night and by now even Matt was smiling about it. None of the young knights had any real experience with women, although they were very convincing in pretending they had.   
"Who was flirting with you?", Ariel asked surprisingly, and they all moved closer together so that the twins, who had been at some meeting, could sit down.   
"Joanna," Zack replied, and Stan said, soberly as ever:   
"But when Zack talks about flirting, I think it was more a smile of pure politeness."   
"Hey!" Zack protested, and Ariel laughed.   
"Joanna? I'm sorry, but you're really not her type."   
Zack sulked, and Owen, who happened to be sitting next to Ariel, ran his fingers through his red hair. "Well, who's her type?"   
"Probably not you either." Matt joined in the friendly banter.   
"Oh, and I suppose the fine sir diplomat now claims he can talk his way into any bed?" Owen complained. Will sighed.   
"It's called Silvertongue."   
"It's called talent," Matt corrected him, and Devon grinned.   
"A talented tongue? Sounds interesting."   
"I mean-" Matt's face started to burn and Ariel giggled.   
"You just promised me an exciting wedding night."   
Oh, Great Mother! To think that everyone else imagined said wedding night, he'd want to sink into the ground in shame. It was Morgan who pulled a flute from his belt and saved the moment.   
"Fancy a song?" He warbled a short melody, and Zack sang a song that would soon be joined by Owen and Devon. Matt knew the song about the knight who swears celibacy and then seduces the wives of other men by the dozen, only by hearsay. The only line he could have sung along was the famous _"from horseback she fell at my feet and later fell her dress"_.   
"That's not exactly the best role model," Will remarked afterwards.   
"They can talk a lot when the day is long," Matt said with a wink and Will sighed, though slightly amused.   
"Who will sing _Girl and Wine_ with me?" Alex then asked with a grin. Matt found it remarkable that the Prince was able to suppress his actual opinion of these things so well in company, but his thoughts were interrupted when suddenly his name was called in several voices.   
"What?" he asked confused.   
"Will you sing with me?"   
"What? Sing? Me?"   
"Yes, you!" Zack called and Will poked him.   
"Don't tell me you didn't also get singing lessons, sir diplomat."   
"Traitor." Matt growled at the lord's son, who only shrugged apologetically.   
Morgan took this as an endorsement because he started to play.   
"Wait! This is a duet between man and woman!" Matt protested as he recognized the melody.   
"Yeah, so what?", Devon asked unimpressed.   
"Why doesn't Ariel sing the female part?"   
"I cannot sing," she said simply, shaking her head. Owen laughed softly.   
"When Ariel sings, the birds fall dead from the trees. Ow!" She slapped him on the back of the head and the others laughed.   
"Come on, Matt," Alex asked with a friendly smile.   
"Just this once," Matt grumbled reluctantly and Morgan warbled off.  
"Come on, oh beauty, bring the wine to me! Bring the wine to me, ‘cause I'm thirsty he’! Come on, my beauty, bring the wine to me, ‘cause I feel like girl and wine!” Alex's pleasantly deep voice got even lower as he sang and Matt started a little insecure:  
"I'll pour the wine, just if you dance with me! If you dance with me, I'll come te ye! I'll pour the wine just if you dance with me, then you get a girl and wine." He felt quite silly singing a woman's part, but he didn't want to be a spoilsport either, after all the group of friends had accepted him without complaint and integrated him. Said friends happily sang the chorus and then Alex started with the next verse.  
"Come on, oh beauty, on the table up! On the table up, come, we dance on top! Come on, my beauty, on the table up, ‘cause I want us to be seen." Playfully, Alex reached a hand over Stan's head to Matt, who couldn't resist raising an eyebrow.  
"I'm coming up just for a kiss from you. Yeah, a kiss from you, I’m wishing for! I'm coming up just for a kiss from you, then I will come up to you."  
Ariel giggled, barely audible over the loud chorus of the others.  
"And later, beauty, share the bed with me! Share the bed with me so I don't freeze! And later, beauty, share the bed with me, it shall not be your loss!" Now Alex couldn't wipe the grin off his face and Matt briefly grimaced before he started his last part.  
"But just if you don't kiss another one! Don’t kiss another, if the faith is done! But just if you don't kiss another one, otherwise you'll sleep alone!" With an arrogant sniff of his nose Matt turned away and Alex laughed into the chorus of the others. As the last trill of Morgan's flute faded away, Will said with a tired smile:   
"I think we should go to bed. Tomorrow won't be any less tiring than today."   
Murmurs of agreement rose and Matt stood up to stretch. With a soft laugh on her lips, which was meant for a remark by Devon, Ariel came over to Matt and gently laid a hand on his chest.   
"Good night, Matthew Silvertongue," she said with well-intentioned mockery, winking at him and breathing a kiss on his lips before she floated away lightly; a black shadow walking among the small campfires of the soldiers. He watched her, the sudden desire to hug and kiss her properly in the chest, when something violently hit him right there.   
"Whew!", he made in surprise and stumbled back. Even before he had registered what he had picked up by reflex, Owen shouted:   
"Hey, Will, that was _my_ bed roll!"   
"Oh, excuse me! Shall I sniff it first to see on which bed roll your body fluids are stuck on?" Will returned annoyed and with cautious restraint, Matt looked at the bed roll in his hands.   
"The fact that you know the smell of Owen's body fluids makes me wonder..." Stan noted dryly, spreading his own bed roll a little way from Matt.   
"Ew!", the others, including Matt, did, though in different intonations.   
"Well, what smells like rancid hazelnut belongs to Matt," Alex lightly noticed and Matt threw the bed roll at him.   
"And the one with the moldy apple stink belongs to Alex!"   
"Hey!"   
"Can I have my bedroll back now?" Owen asked pissed off in between and Matt laughed. If they weren't about to go to war, he might enjoy this trip.

~

"Don't you dare slice up my fiancé!"   
Alex grinned crookedly. "I wouldn't dare. But in case it does happen accidentally, we have Theresa." He nodded at the water sorceress next to Ariel, who nodded back politely. Only a few strands of light brown hair peeked out from under her strangely large wizard's cap and her eyes flashed light blue from her round face. Ariel nudged her friend with an elbow.   
"Fix him up properly, I still need him."   
Theresa nodded with a smile and Alex grinned, then the subject approached.   
"Is this really necessary?" Matt reluctantly asked.   
"Yes. I want you to be able to defend yourself at least to some extent if you have to," Alex replied seriously. "And since you carry a dagger, you should be able to handle it."   
"I can do so." Matt sighed and glanced hopefully at Ariel, who, however, simply folded her arms in front of her chest.   
"Theresa will make sure you'll still be in one piece afterwards," Alex said, and Theresa gave Matt a nod.   
"Provided you allow me to heal you, Your Highness."   
"Of course." He nodded back and then looked at Alex, who was drawing his dagger.   
"Ready when you are."   
Matt also drew his dagger and briefly weighed it in his hand, then took two quick steps forward. A clumsy direct attack and it took Alex no effort at all to block Matt's arm, but then he cried out in surprise and pain as the dagger bored into his right thigh. The hot throbbing got worse as the blade disappeared, and he felt the blood welling up. With the dagger in his left hand, Matt stepped back.   
"What the...?" As Ariel's hand lay on the wound, Alex gave a short howl.   
"I'm sorry...", Matt said, but the excuse didn't seem to mean much; he was still holding the bloody dagger in his left hand. They looked at each other searchingly for a moment, then they attacked almost simultaneously. Again it was Alex who cried out.   
"Damn it, Matt, what are you doing?"   
He shrugged. "Fighting?"   
"You're holding the dagger in the wrong hand."   
Matt looked at his left hand and shook his head, a fine smile crept up on his lips, which Alex frowned at. "No, my friend, I am left-handed."   
Alex nodded at Ariel, who had finished the second healing, and sucked on his lower lip for a moment; Matt's smile widened and although he sometimes _seemed_ arrogant, it was only now that _real_ complacency appeared on his face. Prospective knights were all drilled on the right hand for uniformity and Alex had no idea how to fight a left-handed man, while Matt probably had more than enough experience with a right-handed opponent.

The diplomat moved extremely smoothly and nimbly for his stature, Alex had to give him that, but he had no stamina. It wasn't long before he started panting, and Alex stopped the exercise. With a satisfied, appreciative and slightly painful smile - after a dozen or so healings a certain pain remained - he nodded at Matt. His cockiness had given way to a tired expression and his cheeks became even redder when he noticed Ariel's fascinated smile. Alex could not blame him. He strolled over to him and patted him briefly on the shoulder.   
"You really surprised me."   
"At least..." Matt mumbled and rubbed his arm where Theresa had just healed him.   
"Have you ever fought Josh like that?" Alex asked cautiously in a lowered voice and got a snort in reply.   
"Do you seriously think I'd be here? My brother is a trained knight and a few years too much older than me to even have the slightest chance." He shook his head. "Thank you, but I like my life."   
Alex licked his lips as he searched for words, but in that moment, Will and Stan came up and there was no need to answer. "Perfect timing," Alex said instead and nodded at them.   
"He looks pretty beat up already," Stan remarked critically, and Matt groaned.   
"This is a joke, right?"   
"You really want to train him on the sword?" Ariel also wanted to know critically and Alex nodded seriously. Matt moaned and Will sighed.   
"Whatever you say, Alex, but don't complain if Ariel takes out on you her frustration that her beloved is useless at night."   
Alex laughed softly, ignoring Matt's outraged face and Ariel's rolling eyes. "I can live with that. Theresa, please take care of the swords."   
"Of course, Your Highness," she said dutifully, and as Will handed her his sword so she could place a temporary spell on the blade, it called out from behind them:   
"Hey, Alex!"   
Alex turned to Christian, who raised his hand in greeting and then waved him over.   
"Go on," Ariel said and nodded slightly; Alex nodded back and hurried towards Christian.   
"What is it?"   
"A message."   
"From whom?"   
In reply, Christian handed him the folded message, with the light green seal of the Appleberrys shimmering on it - a message within the family, otherwise it would have been the white Whitehill seal. He was still surprised how calm the bastard was all of a sudden, but Alex didn't really want to know the reason, it was enough for him that it was like that. He broke the seal and unfolded the paper, but when he recognized Lorelei's handwriting and read the first three words _'Samson is sick'_ , the letters suddenly blurred into one big spot of ink. With a hard blink he tried to concentrate, but the letters happily bounced around. Ariel saved him at just the right moment.   
"What does it say?" she asked and without a word - as if he had already read it - he handed her the message. Almost immediately the look on her face became deeply worried and Christian asked uneasily:   
"What does it say?"   
Alex frowned as well with her strange humming, but finally she looked up and looked intensely at both brothers.   
"Lorelei writes that Samson is sick. He's been complaining of headaches for some time now, and recently he's had speech problems. The healers say there's something wrong with his head they can't fix."   
Alex knew his twin well enough to know that fear crept into her concerns.   
"Is it bad?" Christian cautiously asked, and she bit her lip.   
"They should consult a healer witch."   
Christian nodded, but didn't seem at all reassured. Alex examined Ariel and the incoming silence lay heavily on the three of them until Christian cleared his throat, but then left without a word. Ariel pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes and when Alex saw a magic shield flashing around them both, he took her in his arms.   
"How bad is it?"   
She leaned against him and shook her head.   
"Ariel. How bad is it when ordinary healers say they don't know what to do?" His gut told him it was very bad, but he wanted to hear it from her.   
"If there's nothing a healer witch can do either, I think his childlessness is the least of his problems." Her voice trembled and he suppressed a miserable sound.   
"What is it? Will it kill him?"   
"I'm not a real healer, Alex."   
"I know, but you've still had basic training."   
For an uncomfortably long moment, she remained silent. "Lorelei's message was not very informative, but either the symptoms will go away on their own, or it will get worse and worse."   
"That doesn't sound very reassuring."   
"I know. But there are all sorts of reasons for headaches and speech problems."   
"Ariel." He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her away so he could look at her. "Is it killing him or not?"   
"I can't tell!" She was lying.   
"Is it killing him?" he repeated insistently and she pressed her lips together.   
"I don't know, Alex, and even if it does, it'll probably take a long time." Her face changed into a grimace and Alex let go of her. He couldn't remember ever having been lied to like that by her. If it was so obvious, why did she do it? Did she think she could protect him from the truth? Was there anything else she wasn't telling him?   
She left without another word - which was enough already - and took Lorelei's message with her; the magical eavesdropping protection burst.

~

The weight on Sev's chest had silky hair and soft skin. His hand slipped along the spine, under the thin blanket and just reached the promising curves of the back when a pseudo knocking sounded at the tent. Sev blinked into the twilight and raised his head, but Flavius already entered.   
"I have good news and bad news, Sev."   
"Good morning," Sev replied and yawned, before gently pushing Cyril away. The elf bastard sighed softly, curled up and pulled the blanket up to his chin while Sev stood up and stretched.   
"Yeah, yeah, good morning, my prince. There are more important things than polite phrases," Flavius said in a low voice and rolled his eyes.   
"My father and my brothers would contradict you most vehemently, dear Flavius," Sev replied and playfully poked his bodyguard in the chest before he bent over for his clothes. "So, what news is it?"   
"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"   
"The good news."   
"The Imperial Fleet, for which we've been waiting, has been sighted. It shouldn't be long before it reaches Shellhaven."   
"Very good." Sev nodded happily. "Ringbay is falling as fast as Silvershore. I like that."   
"I'm sorry, but I doubt it." Flavius' face darkened. "For every good news, there are two bad ones."   
Sev sighed. "Of course."   
"Whitehill's army is on the way."   
"This is _not_ a big surprise..."   
For a moment Flavius looked at him silently, then he said: "Part of the army is travelling along the Pearl River to get to the Hall of Water. They already have wizards and sorceresses with them, but it's mostly cavalry and knights."   
Sev frowned, but nodded. "How soon will they be there?"   
"Two weeks, maybe three."   
"How soon can _we_ get there?"   
"Two weeks we'll need for sure, if we change direction now."   
Chewing on his lower lip, Sev finished dressing and thought. "Surely the fleet is carrying a small army. If we send the wall-breakers with a few legions to lay siege to Shellhaven, will it work?"   
"Between our position and Shellhaven, there are only two cities with significant defenses, but most of Ringbay's army is reported to be coming from the south. If they know Whitehill is approaching, they may swing back to pinch us. And they'll definitely reach the Hall of Water before we do."   
"Thanks to those confounded messenger birds, they will know for sure. But they'll also know that Shellhaven is under siege from both sides."   
"Provided our fleet takes care of their fleet first."   
"Well, _that_ I really don't doubt," Sev growled and ran his hands over the skull which had been freshly shaved only yesterday. "We still don't know where the princes Arik and Nicholas are, do we?"   
"No."  
Reflecting, Sev walked up and down the limited area. "The question is whether the Hall of Water needs the protection of the army, or if the people there are just waiting to join an army."   
"Hmm?", Flavius made, apparently torn from his own thoughts. Sev looked at him intensely.   
"If the Hall of Water is home to fighting wizards, Ringbay's army will come to Shellhaven's aid, knowing that Whitehill's army is picking up the wizards."   
"But isn't it good for us then, just because Ringbay is marching on Shellhaven and we reach the Hall of Water before Whitehill to take it down?" Flavius frowned and Sev nodded.   
"Basically, yes. But none of us knows how the wizards are actually set up. How many are there? How powerful are they? Mario said a wizard like Princess Ariel could unleash tremendous destructive powers."   
It was strange to see the normally stoic Flavius turn pale, but Sev was also uncomfortable at the thought. In the pause of the conversation Cyril sighed and rubbed his eyes.   
"Sev...?"   
"Here," he replied gently and then added, addressed to Flavius: "I want to talk to Tullius and Arco immediately. And get some of the other officers who have an inkling of the stuff. You know whom..."   
Flavius nodded quickly and left the tent; Sev sighed deeply. There were more pleasant ways to spend a morning.

"Let's go, my love," Sev said, patting Kyrie on the neck.   
The mare snorted and shook her head.   
"No? I'm sorry, but it'll be a while before we can rest a few days." With a smile he stroked her nose and got a friendly nudge for it, then she lifted her head and whinnied almost as if in greeting. Sev looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow in surprise.   
"What are you doing here?"   
Cyril, leading his horse on the reins, smiled uncertainly. "I thought..." The elf bastard blushed violently. "I thought I could ride with you today."   
Confused, Sev blinked. "Why?", he asked after a moment, because he just couldn't think of a reasonable justification. Now it was Cyril who seemed irritated, but quickly the embarrassment took over.   
"Today is your birthday, Sev. You should spend the day with people who are close to you," he said cautiously, as if he only now remembered who he was actually talking to, and for a moment Sev was indeed tempted to send Cyril to his usual place. He still wasn't sure what to think of the pleasure slave and his change of mind regarding his existence, because somehow Sev didn't really believe in his crush. But this wasn't the right moment to ponder about it, and moreover Cyril wasn't completely wrong. It was Sev's twenty-sixth birthday and now he was even really aware of it.   
"All right," he finally said, and Cyril beamed before he nimbly swung onto his horse.   
"Thanks, Sev."   
Sev also mounted and gave him a wry look. "My birthday seems to mean more to you than it does to me," he remarked and Cyril shrugged again, blushing.   
"You treat me better than I ever dreamed possible. And, um..." He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled lopsidedly. "Even a warrior prince deserves affection and kindness."   
"Oh, ye Gods! Stop it already!" Now Sev had to laugh, all the more because Cyril was visibly sulking. "We're at war, Cyril, there's something more important, don't you think?"   
"Maybe, but that doesn't mean you have to forget the little things of attention."  
Two hours later they rode south at the head of a legion, a warm breeze was brushing across their faces and Sev managed - after Arco finally stopped talking about training plans - to empty his mind and think of nothing. At least until Cyril radiated a strange uneasiness.   
"What is it? Don't tell me you have to pee already."   
"No. No, it's not that..." He shook his head and smiled embarrassedly, then suddenly he stretched his chin.  
"There is one course to take, there is one war to fight!"   
Before Sev realized, Arco on Sev's other side replied:   
"Be victorious or die!"  
"Only one siege to gain; there's fire in our eyes!"   
And this time, not only Arco, but also the legionaries behind them answered:  
"Let the empire rise!"   
Sev raised an eyebrow because now he recognized the song. An ancient Elven war song that Cyril apparently sang in Sev's honor.  
"He holds the fate of our empire in his hands! Wide open gates, attack the foe, then raid their land! We are the warriors! We march through halls."  
"Prince of steel!"  
"We are rebellions We tear down walls!"  
"Prince of steel!"  
"We draw the sword, the javelins swing. We serve the prince, the prince of steel!"  
Under Cyril's leadership the legion sang the whole war anthem and Sev smiled to himself. It was kind of sweet of Cyril, but on the other hand a little too much for his liking; there had already been mutterings because the slave was allowed to ride next to the master. Arco continued to hum the melody after the end of the song and then remarked amusedly:   
"Whatever you should think of the boy, but it was certainly good for morale."   
"It would be news to me that morale needs a little push," Sev replied with a questioning undertone and Arco shook his head.   
"That's not what I mean. But most men still don't know how to judge you. They came here from the care of the Empire and suddenly serve a prince they only know from stories. I meant to bring this up earlier, but... well. Show the men what kind of man you are."   
"I'm still not sure what you mean," Sev admitted a bit uncertainly. "I am a prince of the empire, the personification of Mars, and-"   
"You see," Arco interrupted him nonchalantly. "You are the stern prince, the incarnation of a god. These are figures, Severio, but you're a _man_ behind the façade. And it's this man they want to know."   
"And singing songs helps?" Sev wanted to know skeptically; he really didn't understand what Arco wanted to tell him.   
"It has come to my attention that today is your birthday. Give the men extra rations of something for this occasion. Let's camp earlier and skip the exercises for today. Show them you're human."   
Sev looked at the commander, but his gaze turned back to the front. Uncertain, Sev half turned around in the saddle and surveyed his legionaries. He knew how distant his father and his brothers were, and he had believed to be much closer to his men, but Arco's most important point was the mass of soldiers. Only those who had been in Argynn for a longer time knew Sev in his role as ... yes, what? Pseudo vicegerent? He licked his lips and nodded to his own thoughts.   
"Commander."   
"Yes?"   
"Since we are too far away from the Empire to properly celebrate its official holidays"- in fact, some of them had simply gone lost- "I decided to let my men participate in my birthday. To mark the occasion, we will rest two hours earlier and the evening training sessions will be cancelled. Furthermore, each man is entitled to a cup of wine." Such grandiloquent words were not usually his style, and he saw Arco making an effort to appear serious.   
"As you wish, my prince."   
"I wish," Sev exaltedly confirmed. Arco cleared his throat choked and nodded; Cyril giggled softly. Sev allowed himself a smile and patted Kyrie on the neck.   
"You're going to get an extra large portion of food, my love. Don't worry, I won't forget you."

~

Leaning against a tree, Matt was dozing while Stan carved on one side and Will sharpened his dagger on the other. He heard Ariel and Morgan talking, heard Owen's grumbling because he had to mend his shirt himself, and heard the eagerly silent murmur of Zack, Devon and Alex rolling the dice. He was hurting all over. He had gotten used to riding by now, but the evening training was a torture and the young knights took their duty to teach him very seriously. By now he was also very familiar with the touch of Theresa's magic and even though she never said anything, he knew from Ariel that she had told her friend some lie about the mighty earth shield around him.   
"Hey." Will nudged him.   
"Hmm?" Matt blinked at a wineskin. "No, thanks."   
"Come on. We'll drink to Sebastian and Gudrun," Ariel said and smiled at him. He had lost track of time out here a little, but with _this_ reasoning he grabbed it and nodded.   
"Well then. To the newlyweds." The wine was clearly too warm and not of the best quality, but he didn't complain, instead handed the wineskin to Stan.  
The wine made the rounds several times and although everyone repeated the same toast over and over again, no one talked about the couple. Matt, however, missed Sebastian a little. His catching enthusiasm when he had found an interesting book, the concentrated calm surrounding him while reading...   
It was Stan who brought Matt back to reality with a nudge.   
"Hmm?"   
"Since we are celebrating a happily married couple..." Stan held something out to him and Matt took it before he realized what it was. It was a bracelet made of light wood and he looked at Stan in irritation, who smiled almost apologetically.   
"Since none of us were present in the Great Hall, we thought we might get another private performance," Devon explained sincerely.   
"A private performance? Of what?"  
"Morgan?" Zack nudged him.   
"Hmm? Oh, yeah..." Hurriedly he pulled out his flute and began to play a few off-key notes.   
"What's going on here?" Matt wanted to know confused and looked at Alex, who shrugged with a grin.   
"Please, delight us with your lovely voice," Owen said formally, and Morgan finally found the right tones.   
"No!" Matt protested immediately. He would certainly _not_ sing that rose-red minstrel song. Ariel hid her giggles girlishly behind one hand and he turned red.   
"No!" he repeated and Morgan stopped playing.   
"But why not? It's only a song."   
"I don't like singing. And it's silly and... and my voice is terrible and..."   
"It can't get any worse than in the Great Hall," Alex remarked soberly and Ariel giggled again.   
"Excuse me, but it was a perfectly executed formal proposal between two royal families," Matt defended himself in bright red.   
"Pompous," Devon chirped amusedly in between and Will said softly:   
"The longer you play hard to get, the worse it will be."   
Owen and Zack promptly began to chant "Matthew! Matthew!"   
Matt shook his head and almost had hope that Ariel would stop all this because she got up - but she came over and sat down next to him.   
"Better?" she asked after she took his hand.   
"I hate you all," Matt explained as dignifiedly as he could, and Morgan giggled into his flute, which produced a few painful sounds. Then he found back to the melody and Matt cleared his throat; he hated this moment with all his heart.  
"Come here and listen to my voice - I have something to explain. Do you hear the heart in my chest? Listen, I care about you..." Matt fought his way bravely through the old and corny minstrel song and Ariel tried hard not to grin and held his hand reassuringly. Finally and at last he reached the end:   
"See, my beauty, what I have. You want this ring from me?" Stan had probably given him the bracelet for exactly that reason. "Put it on and then say, 'Yes, I'm yours'." He held out the bracelet to Ariel, which she put on without hesitation. Relieved that it was over, he tried to smile, but before he could catch his breath, Ariel pulled him towards her and kissed him. It was a real kiss, not just a fleeting touch, and when he answered it shyly - Great Mother, there were spectators sitting here - his skin began to tingle. She tasted of wine and apples and hesitantly he put a hand on her cheek. A clearing of the throat made him flinch and he blushed violently when he met Alex's gaze.   
"Perhaps," said his future brother-in-law emphatically, "you should withdraw."   
Owen and Zack giggled idiotically.   
"Oh, that-" Matt started defensively, but Ariel stood up and pulled him to his feet.   
"Good night, boys."   
"Good night, Ariel," a chorus replied and surprised Matt stumbled on her hand a little way through the camp until they were out of sight.   
"Ariel... we... we can't..."   
She shook her head, the hint of a smile on her lips. "Let the guys have their fun. In a while, they will have very little of it. Some may never have it again." This effectively killed any romance and he nodded anxiously.   
"Sleep well," she said, kissing him on the cheek.   
"Sleep well," he repeated softly, and when she left him, he felt terribly lonely and out of place in the middle of the army camp.

~

"Sometimes I hate my father for his stubborn decisions about appearances," Will growled and pulled the reins. Alex smiled and nodded simply. He himself had held a long discussion with Steven, because a prince supposedly didn't look well riding a gelding, but when Alex saw Will wrestling with his stallion because he smelled a mare in heat, he could only congratulate himself for his choice.   
"Great Mother!" Will cursed suppressed and Alex asked with faint mockery:   
"What do you think your father would say if his son fell off his horse and broke his neck?"   
"Outside a battle? How disgraceful." Will snorted. "He'll probably sweep that detail under the carpet."   
"It may be dishonorable, but it's definitely more pleasant than slowly bleeding to death," Matt remarked neutrally on Alex's right side.   
"I suppose. But you can't tell heroic stories with that," Will grumbled sullenly. "My nephew is only five, but when he finds out I fell off a horse, he'll still be laughing about it in fifty years' time."   
Alex snorted in amusement and shook his head. Morgan pulled his flute out of his pocket and warbled a few notes before he started a marching tune. Every day came the point where someone somewhere started singing; today it was Christian.  
"The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah. The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah!"   
Owen, Zack and a few other knights around joined in. "The ants go marching one by one, the little one stops to suck his thumb. And they all are marching down on the ground to get out of the rain!"   
"Isn't that actually a children's song?" Matt asked irritated and Alex shrugged.   
"That's right. But when we have to do laps around the barracks, that's the preferred song." Matt's skeptical look made him shrug again and he also joined in the third verse.  
"The ants go marching three by three, hurrah, hurrah. The ants go marching three by three, hurrah, hurrah! The ants go marching three by three, the little one stops to hold the tree. And they all are marching down on the ground to get out of the rain!" Meanwhile, the song was ringing out on all sides, yet Owen drowned them all out when he shouted out in the sixth verse:   
"The little one stops to think about sex!"   
Matt laughed softly and was now also singing along.  
A little later, fitting to the end of the song, it started to drizzle and Alex lifted his face into the fine drops. It was still crushing hot during the day and nature could use a little rain. But suddenly his horse shied away, fearful neighing and cries could be heard and then a creaky female voice called out:   
"Prince Matthew!"   
Out of the corner of his eye Alex saw Matt still fighting with his mare and heard him curse, then his eyes fell on the spirit standing there in the middle of a gathering ring of nervous horses. The misty white figure was hard to make out in the sunlight, but seemed to be a chubby woman in servant's clothing.   
"Maisie!" Matt said, unpleasantly surprised. "What happened?"   
"Oh, Great Mother," Will whispered in horror next to Alex.   
"My prince, you must come home," Maisie said pleadingly.   
"To... home?" Matt's voice was a little shrill at those words, and Alex frowned. "I don't understand..." Matt muttered unsettled into the uneasy silence around him.   
"Please, my prince! Your brother Martin disappeared two days before he was due to leave for Rockvalley. The king had the whole castle turned upside down, but he is nowhere to be found and nobody has seen him." Maisie wrung her hands, and Matt raised a hand in appeasement, but before he could say anything, the spirit went on:   
"The Queen has fallen ill. The same strange illness that made your father suffer. It has affected a few guards and even some people in the city."   
"Oh shit..." Matt said soundlessly. "What about the baby? Can the healers save it?"   
"I don't know, my prince, I don't know! The King," the dead servant woman sobbed, "the King is going mad..." What she further said Alex didn't understand, but whatever it was, it seemed to really disturb Matt. Pale as chalk, he looked at the spirit and finally shook his head.   
"I can't go home, Maisie."   
"Please."   
"I can't!"   
The spirit howled and shot forward, and with a frightened scream, Matt let himself fall sideways from his horse. Maisie disappeared with a shriek. Dumbfounded by this short scene, Alex slipped out of the saddle and hurried to the side of the other prince.   
"Are you okay?"   
Matt rubbed his right shoulder and moaned. "No."   
Alex held out his hand and helped him up on his feet. "A spirit from the Hazels' castle? What's going on there?"   
"Josh- ah!" Matt cried out and bit his lip.   
"Healer!", Will yelled at the top of his lungs.   
"Josh has always been a little crazy, but I think he's starting to lose it," Matt gasped with a painfully contorted face, his shoulder was probably broken.   
"By having servants executed randomly?" Alex questioned and Matt nodded.   
"In which he probably kills them himself, but it doesn't matter. If Susanna dies, if his child dies, everyone in his immediate environment will suffer, in the long run, the whole country will." He wheezed again and Alex made a face, but then Ariel and Theresa came running.   
"What happened?" Ariel immediately asked.   
"A spirit," Alex replied curtly and Matt howled as Theresa gently touched him on the shoulder.   
"A spirit?" she asked irritated and Alex sighed.   
"He fell off the horse and the spirit slipped through the horse."   
Ariel sighed in relief. "With the alternative, a broken shoulder is preferable. Matt, are you okay?"   
He gave a whimper and then nodded. "Now, yeah, again."   
Theresa took a step back and the way Ariel immediately hugged Matt, Alex didn't even want to know what the alternative to a broken shoulder was. She whispered something in her fiancé's ear and he nodded before he kissed her on the forehead.   
"I'm okay. She didn't touch me."

The excitement slowly subsided, they set back in motion and the color returned to Matt's face, but Alex now had a cold lump in his stomach. The blood moon had been in the sky for more than three months and one bad news seemed to follow the other.   
If Martin Hazel remained missing and King Joshua solidified in his madness, Matt might soon have no choice but to take the crown himself with more or less force.   
According to the latest news, King Nathaniel was dying - and as far as Nicholas was concerned, there was still no clue where he had gone. His brother Theodore had a son, but since his father had not yet been king himself, he receded behind Nicholas in the succession to the throne.   
And if Samson had an incurable disease, Whitehill might have a problem soon, because there was of course the possibility that Alex died in the war. Nathalie was even less prepared for a regency than Alex.   
He had no idea to what extent Nicholas had devoted himself to his studies behind the façade of the dandy, or to what extent Matt had an idea of politics besides the art of negotiation and euphemism, but in the worst case...   
Alex gritted his teeth and shook his head. He didn't want to think about the worst-case scenario.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of Alex and Matt: "Tanz mit mir" by Faun feat. Santiano (translated and changed a bit)  
> song of Cyril: "Edge of Steel" by Leaves' Eyes  
> song of Matt: "Willst du" by Schandmaul


	10. Dead Waters

All the talk about the Hall of Water and the rain of the last two days crept into Matt's dreams. Soaking wet he knelt in the Sacred Grove of Appleberry Castle and felt the drops splatter on his skin. As he looked up at the statue of the Great Mother, he felt as if tears were running down his cheeks, and the benevolent goddess looked as if she was crying, too. He flinched when the statue suddenly reached out a hand to him and tilted its head.  
"Go," she said gently. "You are needed elsewhere."  
"What?" he made astonished and her stone lips curled into a sad smile.  
"Go."  
Confused, he stood up and she nodded at him.  
"Can't you hear it?"  
"What should I hear?" he wanted to know carefully, for he heard nothing but the rain.  
"The call."  
"...uh...no."  
The statue sighed without losing its smile. "You can't run away. The more you run, the more they will follow you."  
It didn't make sense to Matt, especially since she had asked him to leave before, but he didn't say it.  
"Now go, little prince, someone's calling you..."  
Extremely confused, he turned around and almost immediately retreated for a cloud of black mist hung just above the ground. In the murky twilight of the rainy dream this perfect black stood out so clearly that it almost hurt his eyes. Tiny purple sparks flashed in the cloud and as he hesitantly moved towards it, it retreated. If that was the aforementioned call, someone had probably mixed up a few senses, but Matt gritted his teeth and followed the cloud.

They walked through the castle garden and through the castle itself, which looked like water was running down the walls. Matt's footsteps made splashing sounds, as if he was constantly stepping in puddles, although he didn't see any. The purple sparks grew larger and larger, soon green sparks joined them and black shadows crept along the walls. When he stopped, the cloud stopped too, and a blink later formed a vague human-like figure.  
Cold seeped deep into him, paralyzing his muscles and freezing his bones, while the black shadow took on its own silhouette. Purple sparks formed his eyes and he realized with horror that it was his magic guiding him; the magic of death responding to the call of a dying person. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to know who was calling, wanted to close his eyes and wake up, but the shadow waved to him invitingly.

The corridors were familiar to him and led into the living quarters of the castle. They passed the turnoff to the guest quarters and a little later turned into the corridor where Matt himself had been only a few times. A green light shone through under a door.  
Sebastian's door.  
He could not stop, even though he wanted to. His silhouette paused in front of the door and put a hand on it, unintentionally Matt imitated the gesture and merged with his shadow; together they pushed the door open.

Contrary to reality, Sebastian's bedroom was right behind it. A large new marriage bed stood in it, with heavy dark green curtains. The room was surprisingly dry, except for a wet spot on the bedside table where a knocked over clay cup lay.  
"Sebastian?" Matt whispered uncertainly as he saw the fragile figure lying amidst rumpled blankets. "Seb?"  
Sebastian turned his head. "Matt!" Sunken cheeks and chapped lips twisted under a smile. "You've come! Oh..." He looked as if he needed to gather strength just for a few words. "The Great Mother is merciful and... has granted me my last wish."  
"Seb... what... what happened? What last wish?" Matt approached the bed and sat on the edge of it; he felt reminded of his dying father.  
"I wanted to see you one last time..." Sebastian was on his deathbed, which was suddenly as clear as crystal glass. Matt's eyes filled with tears and Sebastian raised a trembling hand to his cheek. "My life is a disgrace, Matt. I've always been a shadow of what I should have been."  
"That's not true," Matt contradicted trembling, and put his hand over Sebastian's.  
"What am I? A sick bookworm."  
"Seb..."  
"Not even man enough to lay with my own wife."  
"Seb, don't..."  
Sebastian's breath smelled weird, almost like vinegar. "I never thought I could fail so thoroughly."  
"Seb, stop it," Matt begged, blinking tears away without much success. He felt a strange pressing and squeezing behind his sternum, as if something was trying to escape from his rib cage.  
"I don't think it would have made any difference if you had answered my feelings..."  
"Sebastian, stop!" Matt heard himself scream as his magic tried to break free to stop Sebastian from dying.  
"Will you hold me? Just once?"  
"Why are you doing this?"  
"Just once, Matt, just until it's over..." There had been poison in the fallen cup, Sebastian had chosen suicide.  
"No! No, Sebastian, don't go..." Matt bent forward until he could embrace the lying Sebastian, pressed his forehead against a damp-cold one and whispered choked: "I got you. Stay with me, please." He caressed Sebastian's cheek, stroked his hair, felt bony hands on his neck and shoulder. "Don't go..."  
In response, feverish-hot brittle lips pressed themselves onto his and Sebastian's hands twitched, clawed into his tunic and could Matt have stopped Sebastian's death by kissing him for three hours straight he would have done so. But he felt Sebastian's grip weaken and then his arms slipped limply away to the sides. It was as if every single drop of blood in Matt's veins could feel the dying.

The last sigh brushed against his lips. Tears welled up from under the closed lids but he noticed hyper-aware how they stuck to his eyelashes. His throat felt tight but the strange pressure spread to his chest after a trembling breath, making it difficult for him to breathe and joining the squeezing behind his sternum. He felt like he was suffocating, felt every single heartbeat up to his fingertips and a trace of his own magic. A deeply buried childhood memory of how the seal had been placed on him rose within him; he felt the seal stretching under the pressure from within, and with a scream he let go of Sebastian's dead body and fell from the edge of the bed.  
"No! No, it cannot be!"  
It began to rain in Sebastian's room, thick, heavy drops exploding on Matt's skin like grapes.  
"Ariel. Ariel, you've got to help me!" he whispered and choked, only wanting to wake up from this magic dream. "Ariel!"

~

A shrill scream tore Alex from his sleep and he reached for his dagger, which lay beside his bed roll.  
"Ariel..." It was a terrified whimper.  
"Matt?" Stan asked cautiously in the darkness of the tent.  
Alex pushed back the thin blanket and Matt whimpered again.  
"Help me..." The helplessness in his voice was one thing, but a dangerous tension was in the air.  
"Go get Ariel," Will said sharply. "We'll take care of him."  
"Okay..." Alex nodded and crawled hurriedly out of the tent. There were still some fireplaces glowing, so it couldn't be the deepest night as he had first assumed. Barefoot and only in thin sleeping trousers he ran through the camp until he reached the area of the wizards and sorceresses. He had no idea which tent belonged to his sister.  
"Ariel!" he yelled. "Ariel, wake up!" Probably half the camp was awake by now, but he didn't care. "Ariel!"  
"Alex...?" A short distance away, a confused-looking Ariel was sticking her head out of a tent.  
"Matt needs you!"  
She blinked and was up faster than Alex expected. Totally improperly dressed only in trousers and a thin tunic she ran back through the camp at his side without even asking a question.

Matt was awake by now, sitting curled up in the light of a lantern Stan was holding, and seemed to hyperventilate.  
"Matt!" Ariel dropped beside him and took his face in her hands.  
"He's dead," Matt whispered and Alex frowned.  
"Who?" he asked at the same moment as Ariel, Stan and Will.  
"Sebastian."  
Alex sucked in the air sharply.  
"He killed himself." Tears sparkled on Matt's cheeks and thoughts tumbled around in Alex's head. How did he know? Why was he so freaked out? Was it even real or was it just a bad dream?  
"Matt, calm down," Ariel said seriously. "You need to calm down."  
"The seal," Matt whispered disturbed and Alex was under the impression he hadn't heard Ariel at all. "The seal is breaking."  
"Matt, pull yourself together! You have to control yourself." A clearly visible shield flared up around them and Alex swallowed. Ariel spoke to her fiancé but not a word got through the shield. Matt seemed to have some kind of panic attack and Alex touched Stan's shoulder.  
The three knights left the tent and Will frowned anxiously.  
"What about him?"  
"Matt has a magical talent. He can feel death," Alex replied slowly; it was pointless to try to hide it. Ariel's reaction worried him, even though he couldn't say why.  
"And with that he voluntarily goes into a war?", Stan asked doubtingly; Alex shrugged.  
"He said Sebastian had killed himself. How can he feel that? We are weeks away from Feather Springs." Will seemed uncomfortable, and it was only now that the words really got to Alex.  
"Sebastian... No..." He blinked without really seeing anything. "Why...?" The bookworm appeared before his inner eye, with ink stained hands and a book pressed against his thin chest. He had only just got married; what would Gudrun and her family say? How big was the disgrace he left behind through all the rumors, the renouncing of the succession to the throne and now a suicide, really?  
Alex wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his shoulders up. His world seemed to crumble apart at all corners at once.

The clang of weapons echoed in the camp - it was training time and Alex practiced parades with Morgan under the supervision of Sir Roderick. Yet after last night's incident he was not quite with it and his thoughts jumped lively from the still highly nervous-looking Matt to his dead brother and then to the Hall of Water, which they were to reach the day after tomorrow at the latest - and the whole thing all over again.  
"Concentrate, Alex!" Sir Roderick warned. "Otherwise, even Morgan is capable of crippling you."  
"Hey!", Morgan protested insulted and drew a pout as Alex smiled tiredly.  
"I hate to say it, but-"  
"Riders!", it suddenly sounded and the call was carried through the camp.  
"How many? From where? Do they have identification?" Questions were called out immediately, as were orders to stay calm.  
Alex put the sword away. If there was any real danger, the scouts would have announced it directly, but news spread that eight riders came from the northeast, one obviously injured. So Alex curiously walked to the edge of the camp, meeting Christian on the way.  
"Who do you think we have here?" the bastard asked, but Alex shrugged.  
"Scouts? Messengers? Refugees?"  
"Your Highness!" someone shouted worried and Alex raised his eyes, but then realized that he wasn't meant at all.  
"Careful, he's badly hurt!"  
"Arik?," Alex muttered in irritation when he recognized the voice, and quickened his steps until he could see around a long protective sheet that had been spread over supplies.  
The excited chatter was directed at Nicholas, who was being carefully pulled from his horse. Arik also slipped from the horse's back and staggered.  
"Arik!" Alex pushed a few men out of the way and hurried towards his friend, who gave him an exhausted smile.  
"Hey, Alex..."  
"Arik!" The further exclamation came from Ariel, who pushed through the growing crowd and then threw herself into Arik's arms. "Great Mother, you're alive!"  
"Whew! More or less," Arik replied, muffled by her hair, and returned the hug. Alex looked at them in amazement, Christian made a soft questioning sound behind him and Matt, who had followed Ariel, also raised an eyebrow in surprise.  
"Make way, you _idiots_ , make way! We have a seriously injured person here! Get a _healer_ , damn it!" Sir Domenic, the commander of the cavalry, shouted, and immediately the crowd began to disperse - nobody liked to mess with Domenic.  
"What happened? What are you doing here?" Alex wanted to know with a dry mouth and Arik wiped a few strands of Ariel's hair from his face before he replied:  
"We left after a message from Damian. But somehow it all happened at the same time, in Silvershore and Ringbay and... and we didn't know where to go."  
In the background the horses were taken away, the knights of the two princes were led into the camp and two healers took care of Nicholas who was apparently unconscious. Matt had uneasily crossed his arms in front of his chest and Christian frowned; Alex nodded at Arik to keep him talking.  
"We've heard lots of contradicting news and Nicholas was afraid that someone was just waiting for him in Swanford, so we decided to go to you. The day before yesterday...", he took a shaky breath and apparently had to hold on to Ariel, "The day before yesterday, we met an offshoot of the Imperial Army. They split, Alex. They're heading for the Hall of Water."  
"When will they be there?" Christian wanted to know alarmed and Matt said softly:  
"They probably _are_ already there."  
Arik nodded anxiously. "Probably. Nicholas got an arrow and... Great Mother, I really didn't think we would make it."  
"But you're okay?" Ariel pushed him back and looked at him searchingly.  
"Yes, I'm okay," he said gently, almost tenderly, and with a fine smile; Alex frowned. But the tone of voice was not only wrong for him, because Ariel shook her head.  
"You're an idiot, Arik, and a coward on top."  
Arik opened his mouth, but a punch to the chest made him freeze.  
"If you had enough balls in your pants back then, this wouldn't have happened!"  
"That's not true!" he protested, and Alex seriously wondered, if he was the only one not knowing what was going on.  
"Yes!" Ariel laughed bitterly. "Because then Damian would already officially be king. He would never in his life have sent the women through that stupid escape tunnel!"  
"That's right, but-" Soothingly, Arik reached out his hands in her direction, but she shook her head.  
"Damian wouldn't have neglected the army the way your father did."  
"Yes, but-"  
"You could have prevented it. If you had stood up to that idiot just once, _just once_ , we could-"  
"We wouldn't even have been _there_ ," Arik intervened; Alex heard desperation in his voice and saw tears gleaming in his eyes, but at the same time he felt a soft rumble from the ground. "We wouldn't have been in Crown's Port, Ariel, but still in Feather Springs, at most in Swanford. It would have made no difference!"  
"Damian would still have been king and he wouldn't have let this shit happen!"  
"Ariel!" Alex said sharply, because at her shrill words the earth actually began to shake. "Pull yourself together!"  
"Control," Matt admonished quietly and Ariel took a step back as Alex approached her. He grabbed her by the arm, but she broke free immediately.  
"You should give everything you have to send those bastards home as corpses," she said, choking on anger and grief. Arik didn't answer and so she turned around and staggered away more than she walked.  
Alex looked after her for a moment and caught Christian's stunned expression.  
"Let me guess... you wanted to marry and your father forbade it because she's a sorceress?" Matt remarked in a strangely neutral tone.  
Arik, who looked at Nicholas with a distorted face, next to whom the two healers were still kneeling, nodded silently.  
"Why don't I know about this?" Alex wanted to know; he noticed himself how hurt he sounded. It might have been a bit silly, but Ariel had lied to him only recently and he had the dull feeling that they could not afford to lose their trust in each other.  
Arik wrapped his arms around himself and sniffed, an almost compassionate expression appeared on Matt's face - but Alex didn't want to know for the moment who this compassion was for. Arik knelt beside Nicholas and finally said softly:  
"We were only 16."  
Alex sucked in the air with a hissing sound.  
"You know yourself how you would have reacted."  
Of course he knew that, and the thought that the two of them had violated the rules of decency, the Great Mother's teachings and the knightly virtues made him angry and disappointed. That Ariel was not a blank page was one thing, but Arik? A knight like himself? And to make matters worse, Christian mumbled audibly:  
"And I'm being judged because I have fun now and then?"

~

The Hall of Shadows was a fortress on the outskirts of Feather Springs which had quite impressed Sev. But the Hall of Water was overwhelming. Around five round towers of different heights there was a complex of many different buildings, which made the whole thing look like a sprawling village. The artificially triangular shaped lake did the rest and Sev would have found the sight almost picturesque, if his mark hadn't itched so terribly. The magic was in the lake, the buildings and spread far across the slightly hilly plain- and it wasn't just hastily created protective spells or the like, but what had seeped into the ground over decades and centuries. He could feel it even though he was sitting on Kyrie's back, and for the first time he seriously wondered if there was any truth in the stories about his mark; he didn't really want to set foot on the ground.  
"Severio?" Tullius turned to him, and he nodded thoughtfully. "The longer we wait, the more resistance there is."  
"I know, General. But the passive magic alone troubles me enough."  
Someone gnashed his teeth and Arco asked softly:  
"Do you want to use the elven orbs?" They had sent Sev a dozen anti-magic orbs that had been used in the war against the elves, but no one knew for sure if it worked with human magic as well. The joke was that these orbs were basically magic themselves, but that was deliberately overlooked.  
"Does anyone know what kind of range the orbs have?" Sev asked back thoughtfully.  
"Theoretically quite large, but with decreasing intensity," Gianmarco replied. The officer had drawn attention to himself with some clever remarks and was obviously very well-read. "For effective area coverage, one would have to make sure that the effect radii of the orbs overlap generously at the edges."  
"All well and good, but what is the range? Fifty meters? A hundred?", Tullius asked grumpy.  
"One hundred meters would be a damned lot," Arco muttered critically and Gianmarco shrugged apologetically.  
"If we assume fifty, we should be on the safe side."  
"But we only have twelve of them and the area is vast," Sev said and frowned. Gianmarco's answer was interrupted by a shout:  
"Prince Severio! General Tullius!"  
Sev turned halfway around in the saddle and nodded a greeting to Valleus, commander of the scout unit. "What's up?"  
Valleus' face frowned somberly. "The small group of riders has escaped." He hesitated a moment, then pointed south. "Whitehill is coming. They're two days' march at the most."  
Tullius and Arco cursed and Sev hissed.  
"Then they are over a week earlier than expected. How is that possible?"  
"They must have taken full advantage of the Pearl River," Gianmarco speculated softly, and Sev rumbled.  
"See to it that the orbs are used wisely. Tullius, Arco- we'll attack as soon as possible."  
"Of course."  
Sev took one last look at the lake glistening in the morning sun and for a tiny moment it felt as if it was blood-red.

~

He had warned them. He had felt it and had warned the others, but they all seemed so incredibly shaken that his own calmness seemed wrong to him.  
Nicholas was still pale from the blood loss and Arik's face looked constantly as if he was about to burst into tears.  
Alex and Ariel had spent almost three hours under a shield yelling at each other after the arrival of the two princes, but now Ariel rode with them all anyway. Matt watched with unease as tears ran down her cheeks while she stared over at the debris field that had been the Hall of Water just days before. Alex seemed to want to say something after she slid out of the saddle, but then didn't. She took a few steps out onto the plain and then knelt down; a painful groan escaped her as she pressed her hand into the grass.  
Matt could feel it. The place was filled with dead magic and the almost rotten taste hung in the air like the ash from the smoldering towers. He swallowed hard and for a moment he feared never to get that disgusting feeling out of his mouth again. The pressure in his chest drove him forward and he stood next to Ariel before he was really aware of it; despite the boots he could feel the death in the ground, making his feet tingle.  
"They are all dead. This whole place is dead," Ariel said bitterly and straightened up. "I lived here for a few years, you know. I have... had friends here."  
To Matt's surprise, it was Morgan who said in a trembling voice: "We're gonna bring justice."  
Ariel nodded slowly. "We will, don't worry."

It was quiet for a while, except for the wind, the sound of horses and the crunch of armor. Matt thought with discomfort and regret of all the lives the Empire had taken. Hopefully, the wizards and sorceresses had sold themselves dearly.  
Ariel made a strange sound, somewhere between sighing and snorting, and turned around. Matt met the gaze of her green eyes, saw her full lips twitching.  
"Will you marry me?"  
To the others, the question must appear strange, but he knew exactly what she meant. He had suspected it from the beginning, and by now he knew that he really had no other choice. Whatever Sebastian's magical dream had done to him - the seal broke despite the shield. Maybe it had already been wrong at all to seal him. The pressure behind his sternum became so strong for a moment that he lost his breath and saw colored dots dancing; the hand he reached out to Ariel was trembling.  
"I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Fun Facts for Penguin:
> 
> #9: Besides the Hall of Shadows at Feather Springs and the Hall of Water at the border between Whitehill and Ringbay, there was also the Hall of Stones in the Ionian Mountains. All three halls were completely destroyed by the Empire and never rebuilt. In Sam's time there is a small academy for wizards and sorceresses near each capital.


	11. The Necromancer

A little over an hour's ride from their camp was a small village with a small church and a Sacred Grove half hidden in the forest. In front of it, an elderly priest in white robes with grass stains was waiting and welcomed them with an inviting gesture.  
Matt dismounted and looked at Ariel, who tried unsuccessfully to smooth off her dress, which was terribly wrinkled from the journey; at least she had enough decency not to appear before the priest in her robes.  
Alex and his six friends more or less glided crunchily out of their saddles - it was a mystery to Matt why they had all come at all, and in full armor, too. His soon-to-be brother-in-law stepped up to him and wrinkled his nose briefly before he put an armored index finger on Matt's chest.  
"I don't care if you love her or if she loves you or whatever magical reason you may have, but just because she wakes up tomorrow as Hazel doesn't mean I don't care about her anymore."  
"The warning is received," Matt gave back coolly and looked up at Alex. "But I hope you realize that, for one thing, it's silly to wage war on a woman, and that neither Whitehill nor Threehills can afford to do exactly that at the moment."  
Alex snorted in annoyance and stepped to Ariel's side to whisper to her; Matt suppressed a sigh.  
"Well then, shall we begin?" asked the priest in a soft voice and Matt winced as the seven knights drew their swords more or less simultaneously. They trudged in the Sacred Grove and each knelt down in front of one of the sacred trees, the tip of the sword drilled into the ground. To take the sharpness out of the expression of respect - after all this was a wedding - they covered the bare swords with their shields.  
Matt still felt uncomfortable and swallowed hard before he held out his hand to Ariel. The priest smiled, stepped in front of the statue in the grove and spread his arms in a gesture of welcome. Hand in hand they came before him and Matt's stomach clenched.  
The gentle words about love and marriage barely reached his ears. His thoughts revolved around what would come later. Would Ariel be able to remove his shield without any problems? What would his free magic feel like? Would he be able to control it? How would a battle feel when so many people died at once?  
He flinched when the priest grabbed his wrist and wrapped a light green ribbon around his and Ariel's hand.  
"Ariel Elaine Appleberry, are you here of your own free will and with the wish to make Matthew Hazel your husband? Are you ready to go from child to woman, from girl to mother? Are you ready to swear faithfulness before the Great Mother?"  
"Yes, I am," Ariel replied softly but sincerely. The priest took a second ribbon, this time reddish brown, and wrapped it around their hands as well.  
"Matthew Hazel, are you here of your own free will and with the wish to make Ariel Elaine Appleberry your wife? Are you ready to go from child to man, from boy to father? Are you ready to swear faithfulness before the Great Mother?"  
"Yes," he had to clear his throat, "yes, I am." Unnoticed by Matt, Theresa had approached and held out a white cloth to the priest, on which the rings lay. Ariel had magically made them out of the wood of a wild rosebush and the priest, who was only surprised for a tiny moment at the wooden rings, spoke a blessing over them. Then he took the smaller ring, turned halfway around to present it to the statue of the Great Mother, and then handed it to Matt.  
Had they been in the city, with a wedding date set, he would have thought up a speech, well-chosen words appropriate to his position as a diplomat and to both of their lives as prince and princess, with well-dosed romance. But now he took the ring and stared at it as if the grain of the wood could tell him what to say.  
"You... you are an extraordinary woman," he started to say and immediately regretted it. "Extraordinary in many ways. And that's why I wish we could grow together and be what we need from each other. Friends and companions and... lovers... and a family..." What kind of nonsense was he babbling? "I hereby swear eternal faithfulness to you, Ariel Hazel." Before he could utter any more nonsense, he put the ring to his lips and slipped it on her finger. He felt as if he was going to faint.  
The priest took the second ring, presented it to the statue and handed it to Ariel.  
"You are an extraordinary man," she repeated his words and when he dared to raise his eyes, he saw her smile. "You are many things I am not. You have many qualities I never thought I'd find in my husband, but..." she actually blushed, "here we stand." She hesitated and bit her lip, then she continued: "I could swear and promise a lot of things now, but... these are just words. We know who and what we are. And if we survive this war, we'll probably survive together everything life has to offer."  
His heart melted and his hand trembled when she put the ring on his finger.  
"As an ordained priest of the Great Mother, anointed with sacred oil, I now declare: these are husband and wife, eternally united before the Great Mother. Now seal your covenant with a kiss and-"  
The rest of the priestly words went down in a rushing sound in Matt's ears as he bent over and did just that. Ariel's lips were curled into a smile and with her free hand she touched his cheek.

He was married. To Ariel. Officially. The romantic teenager in him screamed with joy, the man in him had some rather naughty thoughts and the necromancer was on the verge of a panic attack.  
"Pray with me," whispered Ariel, and the word _"pray"_ alone brought back his focus. The priest took off the colored ribbons and then they knelt before the statue while everyone else left the grove.

They knelt there for quite a long time and although it took Matt a while to find his way into an honest prayer, he eventually ran out of inner words. He raised his eyes to Ariel and she gave him a wry smile.  
"We should return to the camp, it's getting dark already," he noticed quietly and frowned as she shook her head.  
"We'll stay here."  
"But... I mean..."  
"Do you really want to kill our own people if this goes wrong?" she asked and raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing here but nature which is good for my magic. No one but us who can be hurt. A sacred place, romantic under the stars. No one sees us, no one hears us."  
"There's something to it..." he muttered, not specifying what he was referring to. Still, the thought did not appeal to him, and now that it was getting dark, it cooled down quickly; they would freeze pretty soon.  
"Undress." she said promptly and he hesitated. Only when she unlaced the strings of her dress did he take off the belt.  
"You know," she started matter-of-factly, "before we left, some of us were practicing old fighting magic outside Feather Springs."  
He pulled the tunic over his head and folded it up.  
"To be honest, I found myself quite frightening."  
"Oh." One boot in his hand he paused, and as she shrugged, her dress slipped off and stopped at her breasts for a moment before sliding down to her hips.  
"But on the other hand, it also means that I should be able to handle your seal well. Provided you give me the time."  
"What do you mean?" he asked insecurely and got tangled up in the lacing of his trousers.  
"Take them off and sit down."  
Highly nervous, he finally sat in the grass that Ariel had magically made fluffy.  
"Relax," she said softly, and sat half beside half behind him. He could feel her breasts against his back and his right upper arm as she snuggled up against him, her thigh and pubic hair against his buttocks, one hand stroking along his spine, the other across his chest. She kissed his shoulder and whispered again: "Relax."  
He turned his head towards her and she kissed his mouth, her hand slipped over his stomach and down. "What are you doing?" he murmured against her lips, but her answer were soft touches and tender kisses and pretty soon his brain just shut down.

As the post-orgasmic bliss ebbed away and his senses returned, he asked, still breathing a little heavy: "And why... I mean..."  
"Two reasons," she said soberly, moving away from him, which nearly made him fall over. "One, I know now that you're not witch enough to be poisonous- I should have thought of that earlier, to be honest, because if you were, we'd have a big problem now. And two, you're much longer-lasting now. I need all the time I can get to take the seal off you."  
"Um..." In spite of the darkness he caught her very serious look. She moved a little further away and then tilted her head a little.  
"I already apologize for my passivity, it's not usually my style. And now don't look at me like that, be glad you don't have a uptight virgin in front of you. I have to concentrate, so don't bother with kisses and stuff like that, it's distracting."  
"Somehow I had imagined it differently..." he murmured, feeling a little silly.  
She sighed softly. "Nobody said the first time was great. Not even for men."  
"How many guys have you taken virginity from, huh?" Did he just seriously ask that question out loud?  
"You really want to know?" she asked back.  
"When you ask like that, I guess not."  
"Fine." She sank backwards into the grass and rubbed her face. "Let me know before you finish. I must release the magic at the right moment."  
"If this goes wrong..." He started hesitantly, but she interrupted him.  
"If this goes wrong, at best it'll only roast you, at worst, half the village."  
"But-"  
"So shut up and just do your marital duty." Despite the harsh words and the generally rather awkward situation, he had to smile.  
"Yes, Mrs. Hazel."

~

Somehow Sev couldn't really get into the soft kisses Cyril had been offering him for a while. His mark itched. As soon as he looked over to the ruins of the Hall of Water, he felt sick. Gianmarco had used the orbs with cruel efficiency, because the result was even more devastating than with the elves. From the oldest wizard to the youngest child, they had all been killed. Butchered, if you prefer. Sev had only ever moved within the radius of an orb and had not been directly hit by any magic, but besides the shredded corpses of his enemies, the corpses of his own soldiers - torn, burned, disfigured - were definitely not a more beautiful sight. Whitehill also had wizards with them and he was dreading the prospect of facing them, which was probably tomorrow. His army, maltreated as it was, was preparing for it.

Something tickled the tip of his nose and since Cyril had already moved further down, it wasn't him. It made Sev sneeze and startled Cyril lifted his head.  
"Magic," Sev whispered irritated.  
"What?" Cyril asked confused.  
Sev pushed him away and stood up; his body felt like ice cold fingertips dancing over his skin.  
"Where shall the magic come from?", Cyril asked quietly, when Sev didn't answer.  
"I don't know." He rubbed his arms and shivered. There was a magical tension in the air, freezing cold and deadly, and for a moment -  
"Ah!" He stumbled back in shock when ice-cold air blew into his face, got his foot caught on a stool and fell painfully on his butt.  
Freezing cold. The smell of decay and mold.  
Sev's sight blurred and for a split-second golden eyes stared at him out of the darkness. "Ah!" He cried out, opening his eyes and gasping for air as Julius and Danilo rushed in with their swords drawn.  
"What happened?"  
"Severio?"  
"Say something!"  
"A remnant of magic hanging in the air," Cyril said softly and with the humble tone he bestowed on all but Sev.  
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Sev gasped and pulled himself up, gratefully taking Julius' hand.  
"You don't look fine..." Danilo noticed critically and Sev made a face.  
"There was magic in the air that frightened me," he confirmed Cyril's statement and took a deep breath. "Where is Flavius?"  
"In the command tent," Julius replied and Sev nodded before smoothing his clothes and stalking out of the tent.  
  
But instead of going over to the command tent, he went to the edge of the camp. In the distance, the fires of the Whitehill Army glowed. Knights and wizards. Alex would be there. And if Alex was there, so was his twin sister. A sorceress.  
He shivered again and bit his lip. The tingling between his shoulder blades was still there and a blurry memory tickled his subconscious.  
Amber eyes, magic and a golden-blond knight.  
A warning.  
But of what?

~

"Okay, your highness, everything fits perfectly," Devon said in a slightly mocking tone and patted Alex on the armored shoulder.  
Alex nodded silently, rolled his shoulders and then stepped out from behind the screen. Since everyone was busy with themselves, nobody took much notice of him.  
"Which poor guy did you hire to do your hair?" Well, almost nobody. With an annoyed eye roll, Alex turned to Christian and flicked against one of the many little braids.  
"Was myself."  
The bastard had a silly grin on his face but resisted any further comment in that direction, which Alex was extremely happy about. If Ariel had been available, he would have asked her to do it - braiding his own hair was a terrible fumble thing to do.  
"Do you know where Ariel and Matt are?"  
"They rode into camp at dawn," Christian replied, and indeed he made a strange face, almost worried. "Our new brother didn't look like he was having fun, though."  
Irritated, Alex frowned. He expected a lot from Ariel, but certainly not a lousy wedding night. "Who knows -" he started, but was interrupted by Will, who turned around a corner of a tent.  
"Hey, Alex... I sent Owen, Stan and Zack over to Ariel, but... shouldn't Matt stay at the camp?" He also had a confused and worried look on his face.  
"Yes, why?" Alex asked back and his frown deepened.  
"Ariel has ordered armor for him."  
"Armor?" Christian asked in amazement before Alex could do it. "Why would she put a diplomat in armor?"  
Alex didn't know it, but he had a bad feeling about it. With his magical talent, Matt should stay as far away from the front line as possible, and his progress in swordplay was not that good. He shrugged and then nodded at Christian.  
"Let the first signal sound." His first real command. Since they were actually intended to support Ringbay, this sub-army had no unifying commander with them. General Whiteriver marched with the infantry and although Sir Dominic was more or less in command, Alex stood above them all. He hated it.  
But Christian saluted and marched away. Will expelled the air in a tense way and Alex looked at him.  
"Are you ready?" Will asked quietly and Alex swallowed.  
"No."  
"Me neither."

Alex was trembling. After the signal to get ready he hardly had time for a clear thought and certainly no time to look after Ariel. He was afraid of the battle and a little ashamed of it; he wanted to say goodbye to her - just in case.  
Will, who didn't leave his side, grew paler and paler and eventually muttered: "You look as I feel."  
Alex's answer was a distorted grin.

Another horn sounded and suddenly a circle of knights formed around Alex, all looking at him expectantly - including Christian and Arik. He knew what they wanted, and with trembling fingers he pulled the protective cover, which lay on his shoulders like a hood, over his braids.  
Everyone imitated the gesture.  
Worried that he might drop it, he detached the helmet from the holder on his belt and held it up in the air. His mouth was dry as dust from nervousness and he swallowed hard before shouting: "For Whitehill!" To the roar of reply, he put on his helmet and held his chin up.  
"Prepare to march."

~

Matt marched amidst the wizards and sorceresses, Ariel's hand in his and surrounded by a thin shield so that no one would notice him and perhaps cause a panic. The thought that his mere presence might be enough to do so was disturbing. At Ariel's command, Owen and Stan had put him in a squire's chain mail-based armor and he felt a bit silly, but well...  
Something else was far more important: he suddenly felt complete. His magic was free and the painful pressure behind his sternum had subsided, now it was just like the weight of Ariel's head on his chest when he awoke.  
His magic perfected him. It was a terrifyingly good feeling; the power within him still frightened him, but the dark hunch that this seal had been a dubious idea was confirmed. Still: it didn't matter how much he helped to drive the empire away, it didn't matter that he was married to a princess - as soon as the war ended, he would be locked away somewhere. Maybe not in a magical dungeon, but at least somewhere in a magically sealed-off country estate in the middle of nowhere.

The gloomy thoughts were interrupted when the army came to a halt.  
"How do you feel?" Ariel asked softly.  
"Lousy," he returned honestly. She wrapped them both in a heavy shield and looked at him, then she squeezed his hand.  
"Since you have no instinctive feeling for your magic, as usually every magically gifted child does, I will help you. Together, we're gonna make a simple shield around you, okay?"  
"Okay."  
"Once you can access your magic on your own, you must still rely on your instincts."  
"Okay," he repeated quietly, nodding.  
"Close your eyes and focus on my hand and my magic."  
He responded to the prompt and almost immediately felt the soft tingling sensation. It felt different than usual and surprisingly like leaves were streaking across his skin. He could feel the magic, identify Ariel as its source and even reach for it. In his mind's eye, he saw their interlaced hands and his arm, over which a vine with leaves was suddenly taking root, boring itself into him. It didn't hurt, it was just uncanny, especially because the roots almost immediately soaked up his magic and turned black and purple. The vine turned black, bloomed a black blossom which bent down and dropped a purple drop of nectar on his arm. It was pure magic.  
When he reached for it, it felt like something alive, something completely at his will, as if it were a part of his body.  
"That's it, Matt," Ariel said softly. "Magic is like an extra hand. Make it a strong shield." The distraction of her voice had been enough not to notice how she made her magic vine disappear, but that drop was still there and he imagined a shield, just as he perceived Ariel's shields. It was strangely simple.  
"Just like that," Ariel praised him.  
He opened his eyes and out of the corner of his eye he could see his shield like faint purple-grey streaks. Ariel smiled slightly and then the first sounds of battle came to his ears. Worried, he wondered how long he had spent at this stage of observation.  
"Matt." Ariel sounded very serious now. "Before you weave your magic around you, you must know what a magical death feels like."  
"Excuse me?" he asked irritated.  
"Sebastian's death has given you a glimpse, and pretty soon the fights are upon us, but you must know what it feels like to die by magic," she said cold. "Your magic is a kind of anti-healing and later there will be enough injured to show you what I mean, but for now..." Her words had become faster and she raised her chin.  
"Watch me." Her magic flared up, ready to strike and kill, and Matt gasped. His fingers detached involuntarily from her hand but she gripped on tight, almost painfully tight, the heavy earth shield around them disappeared and then her magic swept him away.  
Her earth magic raced through the ground, leaping from blade of grass to blade of grass, and Matt went nauseous even before tendrils sprang up from the ground and closed around ankles.  
Armor dented under the pressure, clothing ripped, blood vessels burst, bones cracked.  
The tendrils wrapped around body parts and penetrated into body orifices, rooting in the pores and tearing skin from the body.  
He was the tendril that caused the windpipe to tear, he was death reaching for the man, he was his last sigh.  
The death of the people around him jumped at him, black streaks that rose into the air, silver figures where soldiers became spirits.  
Another soldier was swallowed by the earth itself, another was consumed by magical flames, another was suddenly in a vacuum, another drowned in his own blood...  
The wizards and sorceresses took cruel revenge for their brothers and sisters.  
Matt broke away from Ariel, fell to his knees and vomited. She kneeled down next to him and when he was done, she wiped a corner of her robe over his mouth. The strangely tender gesture seemed completely wrong and suddenly he blinked at tears. She looked at him, said nothing and after a moment she held out her hand. He could still feel the tendrils that had entwined this soldier and taken his life. Slowly he stood up without taking her hand.  
"You are cruel," he finally said.  
She grimaced. "Yes, I am. If you want to be merciful with these bastards, kill them before I do." She turned away and let her magic roll through the soil. But when he hesitantly sent out his magic, imitating her tendrils in his own way, he didn't get far, but got stuck on a dead knight perhaps ten meters further on. He was already dead, the last sigh gone, but something-  
 _"Get up! Get up and tell me everything's all right! We all wanted to play together!"_  
-seemed to capture the magic, absorb it, and then the knight stood up.  
 _"Jake! Are you all right?"_  
 _"I'm fine. But I don't feel like climbing anymore."_  
 _"Wanna play catch?"_  
The knight fought on. His helmet was placed so crooked he couldn't really see, and his shield arm ended in a stump, but he fought. Matt fought. He just stood there, saw blurry figures in black working their magic, saw blurry silver figures swinging swords, but he fought. He killed.  
A second dead knight rose solely at his request. A third, a fourth, a fifth. A sixth.  
 _"That's enough, Matt,"_ whispered a low voice inside him. _"Before you can write poetry, you must master the grammar."_

~

Sev was scared. Well, maybe not scared directly, but a strong nervousness and restlessness had taken hold of him. He was also glad that the Empire's armor was lighter and not completely closed at the neck, like the armor of the local knights, because his mark itched to go crazy - even scratching it bloody didn't bring any relief. After all, even the elven orb he carried in a pouch on his belt did not keep magic away from him completely - but at least it kept him alive. It wasn't completely purified yet - the process took quite a long time - but again strong enough to extinguish flickering flames about three meters in front of him, to make thorny tendrils change direction or to make artificial storms blow around him. Without this orb he wouldn't have entered the battlefield after the nightmare haunting him.  
He took a deep breath, smelled and tasted blood, magic and death and continued to fight. While his body carried sword and shield, his mind worked on another problem: without operational orbs the wizards were a disaster. This was just revealed in all its cruel glory. Most wizards constantly surrounded themselves with a shield which seemed to ward off long-range attacks relatively easily, but a melee fighter would hardly reach one unharmed because of the magic. He had read a lot about the Elven Wars and how to combat their magic, but that didn't help him much now, given the circumstances.  
A ball of fire shot at him, was deflected by the orb- and roasted one of his own men. The smell of cooked and burnt meat stung his nose, but there were worse things. For example, the cold breeze brushing against his face. Or the tingling between his shoulder blades that started almost simultaneously. He shivered and got his shield barely high enough when a knight attacked him from the side. They attacked each other, parried, blocked and Sev noticed - although he was otherwise relatively unaware of his opponents - the strange tree on the shield. Although there was already blood on it, the golden leaves and silver roots caught Sev's attention. Maybe a little too much, because again he only got the shield in the right position at the last moment, but he could use his own momentum to punch the knight with his shield. The knight staggered, stumbled over a comrade who had fallen behind him and fell to the ground, losing his sword. Although he raised his shield defensively, Sev was much more agile in his lighter armor, made a quick sideways step and stabbed the knight in his unprotected armpit.

Breathing heavily, he withdrew a little and tried to get an overview, but the only thing he noticed was that none of his bodyguards could be seen. Hopefully he still had some in the evening.  
He carefully wiped the sweat from his face and paused in the middle of the movement. Not far away from him a knight rose. Nothing unusual in itself, many soldiers went down and picked themselves up again, but this knight... This knight moved in a way he could never have moved with his heavy, bulky armor. Especially not... _oh Mars and all the gods of the Pantheon!_  
Nobody could get up in armor without supporting himself with his hands and this knight only had one hand left to hold the sword. The knight wavered briefly and Sev squeaked because the man didn't even bother to straighten his tilted helmet - he couldn't see a thing, damn it - but stomped towards one of the legionaries and stabbed completely artless the sword into his abdomen.  
Sev gasped in horror. Something was wrong here and he didn't just say that because he suddenly felt sick. A slight musty smell rose into his nose, ice-cold air brushed against his mark - the itching stopped for a moment and if it hadn't passed so quickly, he would have almost leaned into the touch, because it brought an almost sensual relief.  
His gaze twitched across the battlefield and he discovered two more knights who looked as if they should not have been allowed to get up again. For a moment he wondered if the wizards and sorceresses were perhaps magically controlling the armor, but that seemed a bit nonsensical to him. But what turned his disbelief into sheer horror was the knight he had killed himself.  
The knight with the silver and golden tree on his shield rose in an unnatural flowing movement, picked up his sword and made a hesitant step in Sevs direction. This was enough to turn horror into panic. He stumbled backwards and whispered the one word he had never wanted to use:  
"Retreat..." He swallowed hard, stumbled and almost fell, but couldn't take his eyes off the knight.  
"Retreat!" he shouted, and this time much louder. "Retreat!"  
"Sev?!"  
He heard his name, but he didn't care. _"Retreat!"_ , he yelled again, and this time someone carrying a horn heard him, for the next moment the appropriate signal sounded.  
The dead knight stopped and Sev thought to meet his gaze.  
If he had wet himself in this moment - he wouldn't even have been ashamed of it.

~

The first battle had been pleasantly short and nobody seemed to really understand why the Imperial army had withdrawn so quickly and, above all, rather disordered.  
Alex almost didn't care. He had finally gotten over the terrible conversation with the commanders and just wanted to get out of his armor and wash up. Or first eat and drink something and then wash up.  
"Alex!"  
He was about to ignore the call, but it was Stan.  
"Alex!" And Stan's voice was shaking.  
"Yeah?" Alex turned around and raised an eyebrow. Stan was as white as a sheet and making big eyes as if the Great Mother herself had appeared to him. "What's wrong?" The usually very unshakeable Stan was obviously speechless.  
"Alex... you... um..." He pointed with his thumb behind him and Alex frowned.  
"What's wrong?" But he followed Stan and soon heard excited, agitated, frightened and angry voices.

"- my responsibility!" he heard Ariel call out.  
"What's going on?" he wanted to know aloud and suddenly it became quiet. At once he was glad of his authority. Nevertheless, he didn't like the situation, because soldiers, wizards and sorceresses had formed a kind of circle around Ariel and Matt.  
"What's going on here?" he asked again and looked at Ariel, who looked angry. Matt had lowered his head and seemed to want to make himself invisible; he looked a little strange in his squire's armor.  
"Prince Matthew is a necromancer," a sorceress finally replied shrilly.  
"A... _what_?" But the general gasping told Alex that he had heard correctly.  
Again, excited murmurs began.  
"Ariel, is this true?" he asked his sister and only now did she look at him.  
Her hands clenched in fists, her face angrily contorted, she simply replied: "Yes."  
A necromancer. A dozen horror stories came to his mind and a fine shiver ran down his spine. He looked at Matt, but he was just pale and seemed to wish he was far away. He would never have believed that the gentle diplomat could possess such powers. But then again... His magic problem, his strange magical talent...  
"You knew," he said. How could she not have told him?  
"Of course." she said earnestly, and he shook his head. Necromancers were dangerous. There were stories of powerful necromancers who turned whole cities into pits of corpses in a single night.  
"You knew what he was and didn't tell us?"  
"Until yesterday it was sealed," she returned, and again there were excited mutterings. Alex had only a vague idea of what a seal meant, but it was enough. Ariel had lied to him. Had kept things from him - important things.  
"You knew he was a potentially highly dangerous monster and you kept it from us? You lied to father, Samson and me." Pronouncing it made it strangely real and the actual realization made his voice tremble. "We gave you our blessing and you... you married a... a necromancer?" Weakly he shook his head. "A damn _necromancer_?"  
"Yes, I did. And I repeat for you: he is my responsibility," Ariel returned earnestly and Matt raised his head with a fine frown.  
"Everything here is _my_ responsibility," Alex replied sharply. "And I don't want any monster in my ranks." Oh Great Mother, why? Why did this have to happen here and now? Why did he have to make decisions here? _Why?_  
"Monster?", she repeated quietly and with the palpable surge of her magic it suddenly became deadly silent. _"Monster?"_ She took a step towards him. "Be careful who you call a monster, Alex."  
"Anyone who plays with death is a monster! Do you know what he's capable of?" he wanted to know and pointed at Matt.  
"Do you know what _I'm_ capable of?" she asked back cold. "Do you know what my magic and the magic of other sorceresses can do?"  
Matt made a low, pitiful sound and grimaced.  
"I _killed_ , Alex, out there on the battlefield because those bastards destroyed the place where I lived and made friends. Morgan killed because those bastards slaughtered his family. You killed because those bastards are threatening our home." She took another step closer, and before Alex could respond, she was already continuing: "I kill with magic, you kill with a sword. There's not much difference. The result is the same. Dead enemies. Are we monsters? Are we, Alex? Because we kill?"  
"Ariel, you know very well I mean something else," he said slowly, when it was clear she expected an answer.  
She shook her head. "You don't understand," she said bitterly.  
"Then explain it to me," he asked friendly, although he was actually angry and confused.  
"If anyone is a monster here, it's us. It's you. Me. The wizards and sorceresses, all your soldiers. But certainly _not_ Matt."  
That got Alex to snort. "He's a necromancer. With all the dead out there, his magic must be drunk with joy."  
"But unlike us, he hasn't killed _anyone_." She said it quietly, with a wicked smile. "I don't even know if he _could do_ so. He just let the dead continue doing what they did before."  
"That's just word juggling," someone shouted in between and was silenced with hurried _shht_ sounds.  
"He is a necromancer," Alex insisted. "Necromancers are dangerous. And you damn well kept it from us. You lied to me. You did... you _married_ him!" Unwillingly, his voice grew louder. "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you _trust_ me?" He didn't know which was worse: the lie or the lack of trust.

~

Matt felt nauseous and although he had only used his magic actively for a short time, he was exhausted in a way he had never experienced before. The tension between the twins, however, made his neck hair stand on end and he followed Ariel the few steps she had taken towards Alex. Gently, he put a hand on her arm.  
"Do you really want to go through with this discussion?" he asked quietly and she turned her head in his direction. "In public?" he added cautiously. In the midst of this gawping crowd, which could magically roast anything and everything in sight at a wrong move, he felt extremely uncomfortable. Without giving an answer, she turned back to Alex, who asked at that very moment:  
"What on earth happened so that you don't even trust _me_ anymore?"  
Even before Matt could finish thinking that something was actually very wrong here, Ariel snapped.  
"You", she choked on the word, "have absolutely no idea!"  
Several magical shields closed around her or around her and Matt, keeping their magic at bay, but in his layman's opinion, it only made it worse.  
"You," she spat the word at her brother's feet again, "don't understand, even after all these years."  
Alex actually seemed baffled.  
"What do you think it's like to be _me_? Princess and not a princess. Sorceress and not a sorceress." She gestured to the audience. "Where do you think I belong?"  
And while Alex looked like she was suddenly speaking a different language, Matt understood perfectly.  
"Do you have any _idea_ what it feels like not to belong anywhere? What a _mockery_ it is that Arnold pretends towards father to be interested and tells me straight to my face that he doesn't want a sorceress in his family? Do you know how much it _hurts_ to know that Christian is more valuable as a bastard than I am, the legitimate daughter?"  
"Ariel, I-"  
"No, _you don't know_!" She stared angrily at Alex, and Matt saw his chance to appease the thunder.  
"Ariel," he said softly, but she didn't seem to hear him at all.  
"I kept silent and lied for Matt's sake," she said, calmer but bitter. "He was sealed as a child and given a normal life, a life according to his birthright as a prince."  
Matt swallowed hard, but her pause was too short to speak.  
"His seal was damaged," she went on. "I wanted to find a way to fix it, to preserve it. I didn't want to take his life away, although it would have been easier to remove the seal. We would have had a fake marriage, but he would have had a life - at court, with a profession, with friends. If the war hadn't intervened, this could have worked out wonderfully." She paused again and Matt swallowed anew, because he saw tears gleaming in her eyes.  
"The seal was damaged," she repeated. "It was breaking, and however Sebastian managed to call for him, it only made it worse."  
Now the first tear rolled and Matt saw Alex flinch, but Will held him back with one hand on his shoulder.  
"I _asked_ him to take off the seal. Oh sure, necromancers are potentially dangerous, but did you even look at Matt? Have you ever talked to him?" She pointed at Matt and shook her head. "Might alone is not dangerous, only dangerous is the one who possesses it. And Matt is a kind and peaceful man, and if there's anyone who can use that confounded might wisely, it's him. I know _I_ couldn't."  
Alex was clearly lacking the words, but Matt too suddenly had a vocabulary like a two-year-old.  
"If you don't want a _monster_ in your ranks, say so. Say it and Threehills will back off until an official request for help is made."  
And again, Alex didn't get it. His face was answer enough - so Ariel turned around and left.  
Stunned silence replaced the frightened and Matt found back his words.  
"You know, Alex... you have an unpleasant habit of giving people names they don't live up to. Maybe you should think about that..." And he also turned away.

The big tent which Matt would have been entitled to since the beginning of the trip had only been erected yesterday - for the newlyweds.  
Ariel had collapsed on the thin blankets of the sleeping area and was crying. Matt had expected nothing else and put down his few pieces of armor as quickly as he could, for a comforting hug with chain mail was an ounce less comfortable than without.  
He sat down next to her and pulled her to him, without protest she let him.  
"Thank you," he said softly, leaning his cheek against her temple.  
She sniffed. "What for?"  
"For what you said."  
She sniffled again. "I was quite unfair to you. I'm sorry."  
"What do you mean?" he wanted to know softly and caressed her back soothingly because she began to tremble.  
"All sorts of things," was the muttered answer. "And yet you were always... and..."  
"Hmm?"  
"I... how do you do that?" she wanted to know and lifted her head off his shoulder.  
"What?" he asked back, irritated.  
"You treat me equally in both roles, princess or sorceress."  
"Well... you're _Ariel_ either way. Whether you wear a robe or a dress. There's the same intelligent, stubborn, quick-witted woman inside," he replied slowly and put on a smile when she finally raised her eyes. In the morning she had tucked her hair into a tight bun, but now loose strands were streaking her cheeks, and he brushed back a few of them.  
"You know... we are more than just a medal with two sides. We are like gems, with many facets. But a sapphire is blue no matter how you cut it." With his thumb he caught a new tear and she lifted a sleeve to wipe her face. But since she remained silent, he said something else:  
"What you said about me... it means a lot. I mean, to justify yourself, you could have expressed yourself differently and-"  
"No." She interrupted him. "I saw the fear on your face. The fear of what you are and what you might do. I know how the others will look at you from now on. You don't deserve that." What she had said and now said touched him deeply and to hide it he pulled her close and kissed her hair.  
"Thank you, Ariel," he whispered and squeezed his eyes shut. "You may have been cold as ice and hard as a diamond out there, but you're no more a monster than I am. Dangerous, yes, but so is a kitchen knife. And no monster could make wedding rings as beautiful as these."  
She made a strange sound and wrapped her arms around him. "Why do you make me feel precious?" she wanted to know. It brought a smile to his face and he was almost glad she didn't see it.  
"Because you are."  
She audibly set about answering, but then said nothing. Perhaps it was better that way, for he was not sure how much more of emotions she could handle now.  
So he just held her and hoped that Alex didn't take too long to apologize to them.


	12. The Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited high treason of Sev...

He felt guilty and at the same time unjustly summoned. They stared at him as if they couldn't believe what he had done.   
In the end it was Tullius who took a step towards the rough area map and with a very leisurely movement moved one of the figures a tiny bit. "Would you care to give us some reason for your decision, my prince?" For the first time Sev noticed the worried lines on his face - as if the General had aged ten years within the last few hours.   
"Magic," Sev said quietly. "It's their magic."   
Tullius, Arco and Flavius frowned. Arco had wanted to get all the other commanders to join them, but Flavius had insisted on Sev explaining himself first to them alone. He was very grateful to his bodyguard for that.   
"It's their magic," he repeated, picking up a figure representing a magic unit. "They are different from what I have read about the elves. More powerful, more dangerous."   
"But they are fewer," Arco growled.   
"Quite right, but we can't fight Whitehill without these orbs."   
Tullius sighed. "We all know, Severio. They will get support and we will wait for ours. By then, we'll probably be engaged in dozens of skirmishes."   
Sev shook his head vehemently. "They will _destroy_ us. Without these orbs, we are defenseless against magic."   
Tullius sighed again, Arco frowned and Flavius asked softly: "The fight for the Hall of Water has taken you quite a bit, hmm?"  
"Yes, but that's not it." Sev's hand shook as he put the figure back. "It was different in that fight. This morning's battle... there was different magic. Didn't any of you notice?" he asked doubtfully. He received shaking heads and frowns in response. "This army from Whitehill has someone who plays with the dead. I've seen it!"   
"Severio, in every battle someone goes down once in a while and then picks himself up again," Arco began reassuringly, but Sev shook his head.   
"No. No, that's not it. I _saw_ it! This knight with only one arm, who just stood up as if he would just get up from the bed and not lie on the ground in heavy armor."   
"Sev, please," Flavius started, but Sev kept talking.   
"I have killed one of the knights." He pointed to his own armpit and shook his head. "I saw his eyes dying. He was _dead_. And a few minutes later, he got up and started fighting again!" He saw the disbelief in the three faces, the doubts.   
They didn't understand, hadn't seen, didn't want to believe him. Maybe they didn't want to admit it. Even the elves had condemned magic that referred to the dead in the strictest way.

Flavius examined Sev particularly insistently and finally said: "Your mark reacts very sensitive to magic. All around is a lot of magic, a lot of _dead_ magic. You have nightmares, you sleep badly and when I look at it I think you're hallucinating from a trauma."   
Sev made a stunned sound, almost a squeak. "I'm _not_ hallucinating!" Outraged, he looked at Flavius, who shrugged half apologetically and half pitifully.   
"Cyril is really worried about you."   
"That's nice of him, but-"  
"You talk in your sleep. It's nothing new, but last night you spoke of amber eyes. If I remember correctly, the Hazel brothers had amber eyes."   
"Yes. Martin and Matthew." Sev nodded in haste. "But they're from Threehills and they've got nothing to do with Whitehill." But he couldn't deny that he'd seen those sinister golden eyes many times. And the strange tingling between his shoulder blades was certainly not in his imagination. Or this repeated brief flash of a dangerous aura around Matthew. He involuntarily shrank into himself and pulled his shoulders up.   
"What did Prince Matthew say to you?", Flavius gently asked. "I know that you talked to each other several times."   
"Polite chatter," Sev muttered, thinking back. A good-looking guy, a little distant and maybe a little smug, but nice. A diplomat who might have preferred to become something else. "He explained a few things to me, rules, traditions, this sort of stuff..." He shrugged. With Alex he had talked about the other knights of the tournament, but Matthew was no knight. And in order not to give the wrong impression, Sev had never brought up Ariel, although the sorceress had made him a little curious.

He felt confused and probably gave a miserable appearance, because Flavius put a hand on his shoulder.   
"Lie down for a while, okay? Whatever is going on, you won't find an answer this way." Sev nodded weakly and left the command tent with Flavius. Silently he heard Tullius murmuring:   
"What do we do now? We can't just dismiss him from command."   
"No." Arco returned just as quietly. What Tullius then said Sev didn't understand any more, but he didn't want to either. Something was wrong here and he was sure that there was nothing wrong with _him_.   
"Please leave me alone," he said to Flavius. His bodyguard hesitated but then nodded and Sev was sure that his eyes would rest on him until he entered his tent.

"Sev!" Cyril sounded rebuking and Sev raised an eyebrow, almost a little amused by the worried-indignant look. "You didn't even wash!"   
"No..." he admitted. In the chaos of the unexpected retreat he had already had an angry discussion with some of the officers, but after that he had only had time to disarm before Tullius called him into the command tent.   
"You must wash," Cyril said emphatically and stepped forward. After a critical glance, he carefully touched the scratched mark. "You shouldn't walk around like that. What if it gets infected?"   
"You don't need to worry so much. I'm quite robust," Sev returned, and although Cyril's concern was touching, he gave him a cheeky nudge on the nose.   
"Let me help you."   
He let Cyril undress him and press on a stool, he let Cyril wash him with lukewarm water and spread ointment on the mark. He let Cyril kneel before him and lay his head with the silky hair on his bare thigh.   
"I'm sorry I told Flavius about your dreams," said the slave softly and humbly. "But I worry, do you understand?"   
"I'm not angry with you for this, Cyril." Sev stroked his cheek where nothing but fine fluff grew on - elves didn't have any beard hair and the bastard would probably never have to shave.   
"Then why are you looking at me so strangely?"   
Sev lowered his eyes and laughed softly. "Right now, there's a pretty big mess in my head."   
"Have you seen the knight you'd rather have in bed instead of me?" The question sounded so innocent, as pure as the childish face of Cyril, but there was something else behind it. Something not at all childlike, but Sev had no word for it at this moment. And since he didn't need any more worries, he shook his head and kept caressing Cyril's cheek.   
"Come here..."   
Immediately Cyril climbed on Sev's lap and snuggled up to him, Sev wrapped his arms around him and enjoyed for a moment the warm hands, the closeness, the meanwhile so familiar scent. His forehead pressed into Cyril's crook of the neck, he shivered weakly. Suddenly he felt small and lost and began to pray.   
Silently he called the gods, and only stopped when Cyril made a faint cry of pain, because Sev dug his fingernails into his skin. Could the gods even hear him here, far away from home?

~

Ariel was still angry, Matt could feel it in her flickering magic and the tension in her body. He was just holding her, not sure how he could, should or was allowed to touch her in this state. He wasn't exactly happy about Alex's stiff, almost formal apology either, but he could live with it.  
The camp had come to rest, the steps of a guard on duty crunched past, then it was quiet again. Ariel was upset and Matt, who had almost fallen asleep, startled when she asked quietly:   
"Did you hold Sebastian like this?"   
"Hmm?", he made a little dizzy.   
"When he died." She turned and created a tiny spark of light so they could look at each other.   
"No." he murmured. "Different."   
She returned the half hug and drew her lips into a strange wry smile. "He really loved you, didn't he?"   
"I guess so..." Matt replied softly, leaning his forehead against hers. "I wish he hadn't killed himself. Had no reason to."   
"Are you afraid it was because of you?" she asked with a worried undertone, brushing his cheek.   
"No. No, he said... The way he phrased it, my feelings wouldn't have changed anything. Maybe... maybe without our friendship he would have done it sooner."   
"Hmm..." Ariel pondered, and Matt put his hand on hers, just as he had done with Sebastian. "The library will never be the same place without him," she said with real regret in her voice and Matt nodded weakly. "He taught me to read and write, you know, because I rejected almost everything the first few years in the Hall of Shadows."   
Matt opened his eyes and squinted a little at her through the closeness; now her eyes were closed and she seemed to be walking down memory lane.   
"He used to tell me stories about dragons and brave princesses. Once it was a story about a dragon that kidnapped a princess. When a prince came to rescue her, the princess intervened when the prince was about to strike the mortal blow against the dragon. She pushed the prince from the battlements and cared for the dragon."   
"I guess he would have made a wonderful uncle," Matt remarked softly and Ariel nodded.   
"With all the books and texts he absorbed, he would have been a valuable advisor to Samson. And he knew it."   
"He knew all this and still believed he was a living disappointment. Gudrun alone could not have done this."   
"No," Ariel agreed with him. "But we will never know, will we? I don't think he has become a spirit, right?"   
"No." Matt moaned the word more than he said it, because suddenly it felt like he was getting punched in the chest. He put a hand on it and involuntarily writhed.   
"What's wrong?", Ariel asked alarmed.   
He slipped another groan. "I don't know. Ever since the dream, there's been a pressure in my chest. It's gotten better since the seal is gone, as if magic no longer has to fight its bonds, but there's still something..."   
With a frown she put one hand on his sternum and he felt her magic, but nothing else. "That's strange," she said slowly after a moment. "I don't even know how to describe it. Magic and no magic, familiar and yet unknown. It's as if... a splinter of something is inside you."   
"Is it bad?" Matt asked quietly, more concerned about her irritation than the pressure.   
"I don't know." She hinted at a shrug. "But if it's causing you pain, it can't be good."   
On impulse, he pushed her hand aside and her magic faded. Into her frown, he softly said: "Let it go. We don't have to solve all our problems at once."   
"No, that's true." She switched off the spark of light and snuggled up to him. "Don't work out so much," she muttered with a yawn. "Muscles are not comfortable..."   
He snorted amused and kissed her on the forehead. "Yes, Mrs. Hazel..."   
The answer was a half-hearted nudge.

~

With his eyes closed, he imagined himself standing praying in a temple surrounded by the white statues of the gods, with the soft singing of the priests in the background.   
The reality was unfortunately less awe-inspiring, since Cyril closed the last buckles and straps of his armor. Sev could feel him fastening the cape and then stepping back, so he opened his eyes. Cyril had worriedly narrowed his brows and Sev suppressed a sigh.   
"Don't make such a face."   
"Come back in one piece, will you?" Cyril asked softly, and now Sev really sighed.   
"Of course." But Cyril didn't seem convinced, so he stepped towards the elven bastard and kissed him on the forehead. "Don't worry, okay? Flavius and the others will look after me." As if he couldn't do it himself.   
Cyril raised his eyes and Sev put on a smile he didn't feel - in fact he was worried himself - and flinched in surprise when Cyril kissed him unexpectedly hard on the mouth.   
"Cyril...," he said softly and pushed him away, stroking his light hair reassuringly, "Cyril, calm down. It's not the first time I've gone into battle."   
"But it could be your last, every time." Tears gleamed in Cyril's eyes and Sev sighed. Why did they have to have a discussion like that _right now?_   
"I have my sword, shield, and the elven orb. I have my bodyguards and a certain faith in my abilities. So please stop making such a drama."   
"I'm sorry." Cyril whispered and lowered his head. Since Sev didn't want to let it stand like that, he kissed him on the crown.   
"Be a good boy."   
"Yes, Master."   
Sev sighed again. "Cyril..."   
But Cyril turned away and knelt down beside Sev's bed. Like a good pleasure slave he would kneel there until Sev came back. He suppressed an annoyed sound and left the tent.   
In front of it stood Danilo with his shield and Flavius held the bag with the orb. Sev nodded to both and was about to say something when Valleus came rushing along on a horse.   
"Whitehill is already marching! Tullius-"   
An Imperial horn blew for a hasty gathering and Sev nodded at Valleus.   
"Try to get your men around the army. Have them look at the camp if possible."   
"At your command!" Valleus saluted and turned his horse harshly, the horse whinnying in protest. Nearby, someone started singing a marching song, but Sev's mood fell. Between Flavius and Danilo, he started to move forward to the line of march, and quickly looked back at the tent. He almost expected to see Cyril peering through the tent flap, but there was nothing, so he turned his eyes back to the front.

~

Matt didn't feel comfortable among the knights, but he preferred not to start a discussion with Alex about his orders. Ariel had also kept her tongue in check, so now they both marched behind Owen and Morgan, necromancer and sorceress, hand in hand, among the knights; somewhere to their left was Alex.   
And before Matt had really prepared himself for it- it was still early in the morning- the battle began in the form of flying arrows.

The might literally burst out of him, taking possession of a knight before the dead body could even sink to the ground. A part of him was pleased like a little child. His magic twitched left and right, crawling into stopped hearts and dying muscles. His own muscles twitched weakly, as if in an echo of the movements he forced.  
  
"Great Mother, that's disgusting," he heard someone say. Zack? Owen? He wasn't sure.   
"Matt!", someone beside him gasped. "Promise me you'll never take possession of me, okay?" Devon? Will? He couldn't say it, couldn't answer.   
"They're coming up the left flank!" someone yelled, and a horn sounded, but Matt had never learned the signals and didn't know what they meant. He did, however, feel the certain nervousness that developed around him.   
Alex's deep voice was scratchy with excitement and Matt felt the nervous twitching of Ariel's magic in the ground. The situation was serious.

_"They say attack is the best defense, but sometimes it's easier to defend than to attack,"_ whispered the soft voice in Matt and he agreed with it.   
"Protect us..." he murmured, a silent command, needless, as it was carried on by magic. His magic flowed further out and he moaned softly as it met with resistance. But the imperial soldiers did not resist for long, death was too final and equal for all humans - they turned against their brothers to protect their puppet master. It was another small victory which gave Matt a burst of euphoria.   
There were spirits around him, the spirits of dead soldiers, and he gave them a smile. Most of them disappeared as if they only needed a permission to do so, but some lingered, filled with a desire for revenge, filled with pain and hatred. Instinctively Matt knew he could calm them down, but not now, now he was busy. Busy building a wall of dead marionettes so Ariel could work her magic, so Alex could give orders, so...

His consciousness frayed with the magic, divided over three dozen bodies. He had so many arms and legs at the same time that he lost his orientation, but he was no longer capable of more than faint concern. Amidst the magic he heard voices calling out to him, but only one of them reached him:   
_"Matt... don't lose us both..."_

~

Sev fought almost furiously, just as if he was the one who had to defend his home. He was part of the flank attack and during it he lost sight of Flavius and most of his bodyguards, only Danilo didn't leave his side. All too soon he felt the strange magic, the tingling between his shoulder blades, and gasped for air when a freezing cold breeze grazed him.   
"Severio..." Danilo was panting and pointing with his sword a little to the left. "Look... what... what is this guy doing?"   
It only took seconds for Sev to see what Danilo meant. There was a squire standing there, completely lost in the middle of the chaos, not moving. He had no shield and his sword on the wrong side and- Sev gulped. The knights and legionaries around him were not fighting each other, but side by side! They were dead as yesterday, magically controlled.   
The squire's head rolled strangely back and forth on his shoulders and Sev realized that he had the one in front of him from whom the unholy magic emanated.   
"Danilo, that's him!"   
"Okay, go!"   
Although Sev wanted to turn back, he knew this was his chance. This strange wizard, most obviously disguised as a squire, had to die. Together with Danilo he fought against the dead soldiers and realized with horror that the elven orb was useless against this kind of magic. He had hoped that the dead knights in the area of effect would simply collapse down dead again, but nothing happened. They slowed down, but that was pretty much it.  
With a shield blow and a kick he sent one of his own men to the ground and froze. Perhaps ten meters further on, rather less, stood a sorceress, her hand stretched out as if for a magic blow. Even though he had never really met her, he recognized her; he had seen her face up close before, in full detail, as if out of a fog: Princess Ariel.   
"Matt!", she screamed so suddenly that Sev flinched, but something else echoed in his ears: _"Severin!"_   
He backed away. His eyes fell on the fake squire who looked at him with empty amber eyes. Matthew Hazel.   
"Matt!" It was almost a shriek and then Sev knew why: Danilo had pushed past two dead men and raised his sword. Even before Sev could blink, tendrils whipped out of the ground, closed around Danilo's arm and tore it off with a crunching sound that echoed effortlessly across the rest of the fighting noise to Sev, one tendril smothered the scream by crawling into Danilo's mouth.   
Sev swallowed laboriously and retreated, stumbling and almost freezing in mid-movement as Matthew's golden eyes caught on him for a tiny moment.   
_"The spirits see you..."_ His voice echoed in Sev's head, because in reality he was saying something else. _"...don't make them your enemy."_ He had heard these words before from Matthew, had seen Ariel's face in sharp focus before and in his retreat he looked to the right, instinctively knowing that he would find Alex there. And indeed, not far away he spotted a shield like the one Alex had been awarded at the end of the tournament.   
The knight roared something and then turned halfway around, probably to look for his sister. "Ariel?" It was a question, but her answer was distorted by the strange vision that haunted Sev and obscured his perception. _"...make a choice..."_ Out of motion Alex's sword pointed at Sev and he backed away again. _"... choice and you die..."_ Rough and scratchy, the voice caused Sev goose bumps and he stumbled, fell and rolled over, only to throw up afterwards.   
Something was wrong and now he was sure that it was his fault after all. Flavius was right, it wasn't magic alone.

A last cramp shook him as he unfastened the straps of the shield with trembling fingers from the buckles of his arm splints where they had got caught. With a veiled look he stared at the vomit, the bloody mud and the legionnaire's helmet which suddenly came rolling in from somewhere. Breathing heavily, he lifted his gaze, saw Alex's bisected shield shine through a row of knights, saw Ariel stomping with an angry gesture, saw Matthew swaying in a magical trance.   
"Oh Mars," he whispered, "where have you led me?" Of course, he received no answer. Or maybe it was answer enough that he saw out of the corner of his eye Gaetano, another bodyguard of his, being pierced by a sword. Sev saw him sink to the ground and, in a completely impossible movement, catch his fall before he rose again. And then Gaetano turned around and in a fluid and absolutely effortless movement cut Julius' head off.   
Sev watched, witnessed it happen and could do nothing. His orb didn't protect him from the dead, not from his dead bodyguards.   
He could do nothing but make a decision.

Slowly he stood up, leaving his sword and shield on the ground, and had to watch Gaetano kill another legionnaire. With trembling fingers, he loosened the dirty cape from his shoulders and felt the cloth brush along his legs as it sank to the ground.   
A hard tug was enough to release the pouch with the elven orb from his belt, his fingers willingly opened to let it fall.   
With the other hand he already took the helmet from his head and let it go carelessly.   
Ten meters, maybe fifteen. If he didn't survive that- well, fuck it. If he did...   
He set himself in motion, one foot after the other, looking at Alex. Alex's voice echoed in his head, his laugh, overlaid by an incomprehensible and politely wrapped warning from Matthew.   
He could not win this war, had perhaps already lost it when he decided to take part in the tournament.

He dodged a shield and climbed over a corpse, then he had reached Alex. He raised his arm and Sev dropped to his knees in front of him, only raising his eyes to the battle-distorted gorgeous face and beautiful green eyes. A strike like this couldn't be interrupted, but Alex was skilled enough to change its direction - Sev felt the draft on his head.   
_"Sev?"_ , Alex gasped completely bewildered and lowered his sword. Recognition and surprise softened his tense features and while the tingling between Sev's shoulder blades grew almost to intolerable, he had to suppress a crazy smile.   
"I surrender."

~

Alex stood with the commanders, Arik, Nicholas, Christian and Will in front of the command tent and discussed. It was a heated argument and Matt wondered who would have the last word in the end. He wouldn't get involved even if he was asked for his opinion - which would never happen anyway - and turned around with a worried frown.   
Out of earshot of the command tent - but definitely in sight - Severio was chained up under an improvised protective cover against the annoying fine drizzle and surrounded by four guards. He seemed calm and composed, almost relieved, despite the extremely rough treatment he had been given, which would be seen tomorrow at the latest.   
Matt hadn't really noticed - he had been too caught up in his magic - but the talk of Alex's tantrum (or more generally emotional outburst), the rumors about Severio's identity and what he had done, and speculation about what would happen now had been circulating in the camp for hours.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or are you coming over to talk?" Severio's low voice barely drowned out Arik, who was screaming at Will against an attempt at appeasement.   
Uncertain, Matt looked at the men arguing and then went over to Severio, ducked under the cover and sat on a flat box. "You want to talk?," he asked and Severio twisted his chapped lips into a fine smile.   
"I thought that was your job."   
Matt snorted in amusement and nodded crooked. "Basically you're right, but my word doesn't carry much weight here at the moment."   
Severio shrugged tiredly. "More weight than mine." Again he was right and Matt nodded thoughtfully before asking:   
"Why?"   
Severio closed his eyes and leaned his head against the pole to which he was tied. His Adam's apple bounced visibly, then he looked at Matt wryly. "I dreamed about you. I don't remember it completely, but your golden eyes have haunted me ever since. I heard your voice, Alex's voice." He laughed softly. "Before I even knew you. I saw Ariel's face, you know. You warned me." He sounded a little confused, but Matt didn't interrupt him. "My mother consumes all kinds of herbs, you know, and she told me about a vision. Our God of War stood naked beside the armored goddess of love." Again, Matt got a wry look, accompanied by a smile.   
"You remember my warning about same-sex matters?" he asked cautiously and Severio nodded.   
"Sure."   
"Good. Because Alex will feed you your own testicles before allowing you to touch him."   
Now Severio giggled softly and shook his head. "Maybe. But I saw you, the three of you, and I remembered your warning. I've seen your magic, and quite frankly, as your prisoner I have a better chance of survival than if I were to fight you."   
"I doubt that. There are some here who would like to execute you for what happened."   
"Arik, for example?"   
"Just as an example, yes." Matt nodded and Severio closed his eyes for a moment.   
"I am a prince. A bastard, but a prince. I kept my word, Arnold didn't. The girl was allowed to return home, and nothing will happen to her or Damien as long as they keep to the arrangements."   
"Nevertheless, Queen Dorothy and Princess Catherine are dead," Matt replied earnestly.   
"Call me what you like, but I am a man of honor and keep my word," Severio returned no less earnestly. "Dorothy knew that her husband had sacrificed her and she died honorably by my own hand. Catherine had a choice and chose death."   
Matt looked critically at the foreign prince. "Why are you telling me this? If the others find out, you'll die faster than you can say your own name."   
"Will you believe me if I say I trust you?" Severio asked back quietly and Matt frowned.   
"You are surrendering for a vision and a dream to the man you have a crush on, even though he and his friends would like to see you dead, and you entrust yourself to _me_ of all people. Why?"   
"Because I have done nothing to you. You have no reason to _mis_ trust me, Matthew."   
Matt's frown deepened, but Severio shook his head faintly.   
"I can tell you about our tactics and strategies, our plans, our weapons."   
"And why should the others believe you? You could lie to us." Matt wasn't sure why he was arguing, because his gut told him that Severio was sincere. The man in front of him was not afraid of swords, but of magic - and on the side of the magic users he was safer.   
"I could... But then I will sign my death warrant. If I'm useful, I stay alive. I like living, you know."   
"I don't understand your motives and probably never will, but that's your business," Matt sighed and shook his head. "I give you my word that I will keep these things to myself for the time being."   
"Thank you." Severio bowed his head and smiled weakly.   
"Don't thank me too soon."   
To match this, the twins approached them and Matt stood up.  
"I had forbidden to speak to him," Alex said angrily.   
"I'm not one of your men," Matt returned coolly.   
"You joined my army and-"   
"I travel with your army and fight by your side, right, but I'm still officially a representative of Threehills," Matt interrupted him, wondering why he was so vehemently opposing. "If you don't want someone to talk to your prisoners, give better orders."   
Alex blushed and Ariel quickly said:   
"That's not important. You"- she turned gloomily to Severio- "are lucky to be alive."   
"I am, Princess." Severio replied sincerely.   
"Why have you surrendered to us?" she wanted to know strictly, and he smiled wryly.   
"There are many facets to my reasoning and very few of them will please you."   
"Just give me one good reason not to execute you immediately," Alex fell in between, and inwardly Matt rolled his eyes- definitely not a good conversation style.   
"I can be useful."   
"Prove it."   
"I'm happy to answer in detail all your questions about tactics, strategy and midterm plans. Troop strength, armament, strengths, weaknesses. Anything you like."   
While Alex was still nodding, Ariel already said coldly:   
"So you want to switch sides? Fine. You will speak our language, pray to the Great Mother and live according to our laws and customs. You-"   
"I know what is expected of me, Princess, because unlike you, we have slaves. But thank you for explaining." Severio had guts, Matt had to give him that, and Ariel too seemed surprised; only Alex looked as if he almost had expected the cocky words.

For a moment, Severio and Ariel measured each other with silent glances and then, as she took a step back, he said softly and in an eerie, almost sensual way:   
"I need a new name, _Mistress_."   
Ariel paused and Matt got goose bumps before they both said _"Severin"_ at the same time.   
Severio- Severin- also shuddered and now in actual disgust, Ariel turned away. Had he heard this name before in his strange dream?   
Alex also turned to leave.   
"Alex!"   
"You have no right to call me that," Alex said bitterly.   
"I only want to ask you one thing."   
"You have no right to do so either."   
Severin ignored the objection. "If you decide I'm not useful, take your sword and do it yourself."   
Without a response, Alex walked away.   
Matt looked after the twins and quietly said: "Good request."   
"Yes, isn't it? Being torn apart by Ariel's magic sounds like a very unpleasant way to die."   
Matt nodded calmly, remembered with a slight shudder being part of her magic and then looked at Severin. "You are brave."   
"Not reckless, perhaps?"   
"Maybe also that." Reservedly, Matt returned the faint smile. "What I can promise you in any case is never to possess your dead body."   
"Thank you."   
Matt nodded at him and turned to leave.   
"Sev."   
"Excuse me?" Over his shoulder, he looked back.   
"You can call me Sev. If you like."   
Matt hesitated, then nodded slightly. There was something about this man that made Matt want to trust him. He might not have been one hundred percent honest when they first met, but at the moment he had nothing to lose and much to gain. And since there were enough people around who would gladly kill him at the slightest doubt, Matt could also be the one who gave him a leap of faith.   
His own popularity couldn't drop much further anyway.


	13. New Allies

Two weeks. Two damn weeks had passed since Sev had surrendered to Alex and the Empire had been attacking mercilessly at least once a day ever since. In those damn two weeks several messenger birds had arrived and none of them brought good news:   
Nicholas' father was still struggling with death; Samson simply lost consciousness several times a day; Sunplains had declared war on Rockvalley; Matt's sister-in-law had died of her strange illness along with the baby.   
Just as Alex was rubbing his face and wondering what else would go wrong until the end of the year, he heard the distinctive song of a messenger bird.   
"Great Mother, let it be something positive..." he murmured and rolled his shoulders; his armor crunched.  
When he reached the small shelter of the birdmaster, however, he shook his head in his direction.   
"To Prince Matthew."  
The same came hurrying up and grimaced. "Great Mother, please don't let this be another disaster," he muttered and took the message. Alex watched him as his eyes twitched eerily fast over the writing and his face became a tortured grimace.   
"Another catastrophe, though?", he asked cautiously.   
Matt sighed, raised his face to the sky and closed his eyes for a moment. "The council has declared Josh certifiable insane and begs me to come home."   
"Can they disempower him?" Alex wanted to know and Matt shook his head before he looked at Alex.   
"Not without a successor. And since Martin is unfortunately nowhere to be found, it's obviously me." He pulled his shoulders up. "Though I don't think they'll still want me on the throne when they find out what I am."   
Alex doubted it, too, but still he asked, half rhetorically, half genuinely curious: "Do they have another choice?"   
"Unless Josh, in his lust for murder, missed some noble bastard of our father somewhere... no. But you know the laws, Alex. Magic doesn't rule, magic serves."   
"The King is his country's first servant, Matt," Alex returned in earnest, and indeed a smile flitted across Matt's lips.   
"Yes?" He laughed softly. "Perhaps. Still, I'm a _necromancer_. I mean, they could probably live with a regular wizard, but me?"   
"I'm serious, does Threehills have an alternative?"   
"No. If we assume Martin is dead - and I'm afraid we should- and if Josh, in his madness, might kill himself - which I'm counting on in the medium term, after Susanna's death-, I'm the last Hazel. And that's both secularly and religiously a very disturbing thought." Matt said this very soberly, but he'd grown rather pale, and Alex searched for a moment for words to say, but found none. So he said in a slightly offhanded way:   
"Well, see that you bring a child into the world."   
"That's a point I think I'd better discuss with my wife." The half-wrinkled note in his hand, Matt walked away and Alex watched him, worried and frowning.   
The Eastern Kingdoms had definitely seen rosier days.  
"Your Highness!"   
Alex turned to the call and nodded at the soldier who came running. "What is it?"   
The man gasped. "The mounted troop that comes from the north is right here."   
"Ah. All right, I'm coming." Alex nodded and started to move. A few days ago, a group had been reported coming from the north and if Alex did not completely misjudge the message from Samson, a mysterious special unit would arrive in a few days at the latest. But one thing at a time.

Standing on the northern edge of the camp, he saw a group of horsemen peeling out of the shadows of the slowly setting sun; their number was estimated at fifty and someone shouted:   
"The banner of the Blackwoods!"   
"Ha!" Owen made a soft triumphant sound beside Alex.   
"Gambling is not very chivalrous," Will promptly said.   
"We didn't really bet with stakes," Owen defended himself, sulking slightly.   
"Who could have been so stupid as not to bet on the Blackwoods?" Alex asked, and Owen grinned.   
"Zack and Morgan."   
"Morgan ought to know better," Will muttered softly, and Alex let the two of them have their talk. He stepped forward a little bit, and shortly afterwards, the riders held their horses. Greetings were exchanged and then Robin Blackwood slipped from the saddle. With a happy smile he approached Alex and even though the two had not really made friends, they greeted each other brotherly. It seemed a little false to Alex, but he had more important problems.   
"I hope you are not just passing through," he said, trying to sound as if he knew how to have important conversations with foreign princes regarding military problems.   
"No." Robin shook his head and gave a signal to his men "I had to have some very unpleasant discussions with my grandmother, but in the end, she gave in. Even if the result seems a bit pathetic." Regretfully, he pulled a face and wriggled his eyebrows.   
"Well, I see fifty battle-ready men here..." Alex replied cautiously and looked at Robin questioningly.   
"Three princes, thirty-seven knights and ten witcher." The elder prince, with a slightly mocking smile, indicated a bow. "We are at your command, Prince Alexander."   
Since Alex had no idea how to react to this, he nodded silently for now; and since Robin was no fool, he recognized the problem and nodded at someone. A young man, rather a teenager, and a man of perhaps forty came over and nodded greetings to Alex.   
"My Uncle Calvin and my cousin Benjamin."   
"Delighted to meet you," Alex said politely, and they returned the greeting. Then he turned halfway around and waved to Owen and Will. "Take care of the accommodations, will you?"   
"Oh, I forgot." Robin shook his head, puzzled at himself. "Supply carts will be arriving in a few days. At that point, my grandmother was far more generous."   
"Sounds good. Thanks a lot." Alex smiled and Robin nodded. As befitting a prince, they moved untouched by the chaos around them, and Alex was smart enough to notice that Robin subtly took the lead.   
"What's new? I heard the shit hit the fan."   
Alex nodded. "You could say that." He tugged at one of his thin braids and sighed. "I don't even know where to begin."   
"At the beginning?" Robin suggested smiling and Alex sighed again.   
"Well, where is the beginning? And what do you already know?"   
"I can tell this is going to be a full-length conversation." On one hand, Robin's good mood was somehow out of place, on the other hand, it did Alex good, so he returned the smile lightly. "How's Ariel?"   
Surprised by the sudden question, Alex blinked at him silently at first before answering. "Fine. She's here, so you can ask her yourself." Since Robin and Ariel had gotten along well, the Blackwood prince would certainly do so.   
"So she decided to come along."   
"I would have had to chain her in the dungeon to keep her in Feather Springs."   
Whereupon Robin laughed heartily. "A woman after my own heart. Maybe I should have a nice, long, polite discussion with my grandma regarding a wife..."   
"If this is about Ariel, you can save yourself the trouble," Alex remarked dryly.   
"Why?" Robin wanted to know and seemed to misunderstand Alex's reaction because he suddenly seemed cautious.   
"She married not even three weeks ago."   
Stunned, Robin looked at him and just stood still - behind them someone was cursing, who suddenly had to dodge them. "Who?"   
"Matthew Hazel."   
For an uncomfortably long moment, Robin seemed to be digesting the news. "You know, I think we should talk," he said, however, and Alex sighed.   
"Besides the full-length conversation about what happened? Because that includes already the Necromancer."   
"Good," Robin said and the sudden seriousness, almost fierceness, surprised Alex. And then he shuddered as Robin quietly added: "A broad arsenal is never a bad thing."

~

Sev observed the arrival of the knights from Darkmoore with anxious interest. None of the spies they had sent there had ever returned, and the little he knew about the country made him nervous. Basically, Darkmoore was the opposite of the Empire: matriarchally run and by witches on top of it.   
He shuddered and his chains rattled; he wore hand and ankle cuffs and was able to move relatively freely in the camp - apart from the eyes that followed him everywhere.   
Hate.   
Disgust.   
Lust to kill.   
After hours of answering questions from Alex and his command staff, Ariel had coolly remarked three days later that he was absolutely useless. He would have been ready to kiss Matt's feet when he reminded his dear wife that it was she who had practically pushed Sev into slavery and thus made him useful. And afterwards he would have loved to do the same for Will, because he dryly noticed that Sev at least knew how to put on armor - so it was now Sev's duty to help Alex and his knight friends with their armor and take care of it. He was a kind of servant and handyman, but he could live with that. He also endured the stares and being ignored, because at least Matt always had time for an interesting conversation. In return he took it with understanding composure that he was chained in a tent during the fights, heavily guarded.  
All in all, Ariel was his only problem: she was the only one who actually called him _Severin_ and treated him like a nobody, she looked at him disgusted when he addressed her with _Mistress_ , and she hated it that Alex and Matt were amused about it. A few days ago she had tormented him with her magic tendrils and he had managed to suppress his panic until the first fine shoots reached the corners of his mouth. However, at that moment Matt had passed by and the following marital argument - how did such a kind man get the idea to voluntarily marry such a woman?- had caused a nice earthquake.   
Maybe Ariel was even the only reason keeping Sev from telling Alex about the elven orbs, because his betrayal was otherwise all-encompassing. He would have given his left hand for Alex to look at him in the same loving way in which Matt looked at Ariel in unobserved moments, but he admitted without shame that the princess scared the shit out of him and he wouldn't bat an eyelash if she fell victim to the effect of an elven orb. It might not have been entirely fair, but he didn't care.

"You look like you're about to shit yourself." Alex' slightly condescending remark tore Sev from his thoughts and he noticed that he had wrapped his arms around himself as far as possible.   
"I heard the men talking about witcher. I have no idea what they are, but it doesn't sound good," Sev returned and took a more relaxed posture.   
Alex smiled grimly. "Witcher are warriors who use magic in a passive way. Don't ask me how, really, I have no idea. But they are precious allies, and we should be grateful to Darkmoore for sending us ten."   
Any chance the orbs affected witcher too?   
"Ten? That doesn't sound like much," Sev said cautiously instead and Alex made an almost helpless gesture.   
"There are not many of them, but according to the tales, each witcher is worth at least two knights."   
That didn't help to calm Sev down, but he nodded. "I take it Robin Blackwood isn't one of them?"   
"No, or else he wasn't allowed to enter the tournament." Alex nodded affirmatively, then sighed. "All right, I'm having dinner with the others." In the special shelter that had been hastily erected for their Highnesses, Sev assumed; eight princes and one princess this small army counted by now and he found it quite remarkable.   
Alex stomped off, Ariel came from another direction and linked arms with him, and then Matt appeared from even another corner, showing off a very unhappy expression. Still, he gave Sev a smile when he noticed him and Sev returned it honestly. Inside, he still thanked the Great Mother's kindness for giving such a powerful talent like necromancy to a man like Matt, and not a woman like Ariel.

~

"There was the suggestion of using a few of the sorceresses to provide additional magical protection for the witcher," Ariel said seriously, looking at Robin, who nodded thoughtfully.   
"Is that necessary?" Sir Dominic wanted to know critically and Alex said:   
"It can't hurt. They wear completely different armor than we do and their mobility comes at a price."   
"Their armor is magically enhanced, but essentially-"   
"Your Highness." A woman's voice interrupted Robin's reply and Alex looked up. So did everyone else standing around the tactics table in the hazy mist of the early evening, looking up or turning around. Suddenly, there stood a young woman in strange leather armor which seemed to be black, gray, brown and blue at the same time. The dark green shirt which could be seen in several places, but especially on her arms, was particularly striking, but also the fine red scar across her left cheek could not be missed. The light blonde hair was tied into a strict bun and her eyes were of a frosty ice blue that seemed to bore right into Alex'.   
"Yes?," he asked cautiously; as she was looking at him, she must have been talking to him.   
"I need two minutes in private. I have a message from the King."   
Alex hesitated before nodding. She nodded her head slightly towards the command tent they were standing in front of and he nodded again.   
Inside, Alex didn't hesitate, but asked directly: "You have a message for me?"   
She nodded and pulled a letter out of a pocket on her thigh, which she held out to him without further ado. The paper looked a little battered, as did the sealing wax - a double seal, the sight of which actually made Alex nervous. He took the message and asked:   
"Who are you, anyway?"   
"Ari," she said, and though she was perfectly serious, he felt kidded for a moment. "I'm the representative of the green sleeves."   
"Green sleeves?" He looked at her in irritation and she raised an eyebrow.   
"I was of the opinion that our coming had been announced."   
"Ah, the oh-so-mysterious special forces."   
Now she smiled. "Yes, that's the one." Something about Ari irritated Alex terribly, but he couldn't have named it, so he broke the seals and unfolded the paper. Thanks to the Great Mother, Samson had taken the trouble of writing clearly and kept the message short.

_Alex,_   
_I'm sending you the green sleeves- the rogues of Whitehill. Father trusted their leader Cullen and their representative Ari (she should have given you this message) and so do I. They are loyal to the country and the crown and obey only my command or yours. Use them, that is what they are for._   
_Sam_

Stunned, Alex raised his eyebrows. "Rogues?"   
Ari nodded. "We are under your command, Your Highness."   
"How many are you?"   
"About two hundred. We've set up camp a little south of here for now, but that can be changed if you wish. I can tell you that supply carts from the north and west arrive the day after tomorrow, and your infantry should show up a day or two after."   
He nodded. "Thank you." And after a moment's hesitation, he admitted: "I have no idea what you're capable of in combat."   
She smiled, strangely cautious. "A lot, though not exactly on the battlefield, that's what you knights are for. We are more... hmm... the little mean knife that hits you from behind."   
For some reason, Alex felt that he couldn't discuss the problem with this special unit openly with the command staff, and her strange winking didn't make it any better. "That's interesting news," he said a little stiffly. "For now, I have no idea what to do with you."   
She nodded thoughtfully. "If Your Highness needs us-"   
"Alexander will do perfectly," he interrupted her and she raised an eyebrow while a mischievous smile played around her lips.   
"If you need us, _Alexander_ , send us a message. Ask for Ari... or Tom."   
"Okay."   
For a second it seemed like she was about to say something more, but then there was a knock on the canvas.   
"Hey Alex, it's me..." It was Christian and he sounded a little worried.   
Ari nodded at Alex and went to open the tent flap.   
Christian opened his mouth, Ari nodded at him and left. Obviously completely baffled the bastard stared after her and Alex got the feeling that he knew her.   
"Are you coming in or not?"   
"Ye-Yeah..." With a confused and worried expression, Christian entered and swallowed. "I should have known Samson would send her."   
"Her and about two hundred rogues?"   
"Two... _two hundred_?"   
Now it was Alex who was stunned when Christian laughed in relief.   
"Okay... this is... this is better than I thought."   
"I think I'm missing a piece," Alex said slowly and confused, and Christian grinned wryly.   
"You can trust her. Maybe not _all_ of them, but Ari definitely."   
"Because...?"   
"Because they are loyal to the crown." Christian said this with absolute conviction, which only made Alex more insecure. But when voices got loud outside the tent he crumpled up Samson's message and hid it in his fist- he'd throw it in one of the fires- before he said:   
"We'll talk about that later."   
The bastard nodded seriously. "Anything you say."

~

Matt lifted his head and before the question of what might have awakened him could take shape in his mind, a small magic spark appeared and lit up a face. With a choked scream he sat up and retreated.   
"Shh, calm down. I just want to talk," the woman said softly and with a reassuring smile.   
"In the middle of the night?" he hissed and reached for Ariel with one hand.   
"Don't wake her up!"   
He stopped and frowned. With the strange armor, the fine scar and the icy eyes, she must have been the woman Ariel had described before.   
"My name is Ari, I am the representative of the green sleeves," she said quietly and moved the spark of light a little so that it lit up a little more of the tent than just her face.   
"You are a sorceress," Matt noted and she smiled.   
"More or less, yes. And I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't blurt that all over the place, Your Highness."   
He nodded, slightly confused. She had probably woven some kind of shield so that Ariel wouldn't wake up from the voices, but he didn't like that. "What do you want?" he wanted to know carefully and Ari sighed.   
"I don't want anything, just give a warning at most."   
"I see."   
"King Joshua missed one of the bastards in his purge." Her lips twitched a little, her posture was suddenly tense.   
"As many as our father has- or had- it's not really surprising," Matt returned dry.   
Now the corners of her mouth twitched to a fleeting smile. "His name is Drew and he smells like you, Lord Hazel. He has connections with the nobility, definitely to Lord Emerald."   
Matt caught his breath, but she went on.   
"If your esteemed brother continues to abuse your home and its people, a son may suddenly appear in an unmarried old lady's family tree."   
Matt had thought that far ahead despite his tiredness, and he nodded. "The Kings Council has begged me to come home, but I can't."   
"I understand, perfectly." Now it was her who nodded. "But a short letter to Seven Hills should do it, no?" Questioningly, she raised an eyebrow.   
"I suppose..." he muttered softly and shivered. The smell of rain tickled his nose and he rubbed it before he asked: "What kind of man is this Drew?"   
Immediately, Ari's stance changed again, as if she was ready to stab instantly. "Threehills would trade one lunatic for another, Your Highness, drop the idea."   
"I am a necromancer, I cannot rule the country!"   
"Yes, you can. Even if it was only as regent. Either for your mad brother or for your own child," was the cold reply.   
For a moment they stared silently at each other over the sleeping Ariel, then she said quietly:   
"If you don't want to give a death order or at least inform your brother about it, then you are taking a risk. I don't care, I have unfinished business with Drew, but in the face of war it will have to wait." She shrugged and leaned back a little. "I warned you. Good night, Lord Hazel."   
The spark of light went out so suddenly that Matt blinked uncertainly into the darkness for a moment before he created one himself. Ari had disappeared and when Ariel turned around with a sigh, the smell of rain disappeared and was replaced by the faint smell of apples.

"Do you know how Sebastian was able to do the thing with the magic dream?" Matt asked thoughtfully and watched as Ariel brushed her hair.   
"No. Magical dreams are complicated and thanks to what you all so mockingly refer to as _twin magic_ , I can't do it." She gave him a critical look and paused. "You could ask Theresa. Healers create dreams like this when healing is difficult."   
He nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you."   
"What are you trying to do?" she asked with a frown and he smiled gently.   
"I thought I could find out if Martin's alive or not."   
She took a deep, deep breath. "Do you want my opinion?"   
"No. It's written all over your face, darling." He stood up and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm gonna go find Theresa."   
"Matt, wait... Oh, for fuck's sake..." Hurried and a little chaotic she pinned her hair up while he waited for her.

Theresa raised a brow. "Would you like to hear my honest opinion?"   
"That's why I asked." Matt nodded at the sorceress and she sighed, rubbing her forehead.   
"Magical dreams aren't actually complicated, they just require an extreme amount of control. Nowadays, only those who can actually benefit from them are taught to dream. Healers, for example, or weather sorceresses." She hesitated a moment before continuing: "Dreams are tied to the magic itself, to the form of magic, and that limits them. Ariel's magic is destructive, creating protection spells or things weakens her while she withstands a battle relatively well. For me, healing is normal and combat spells drain my powers. Do you understand that?"   
"Sounds logical." Matt nodded and caught Ariel's concerned frown.   
"Does that mean I could trigger an earthquake a week away from here if I were dreaming?"   
"I suppose so." Theresa shrugged. "But destructive magic rarely submits to the limitations of dreams."   
Again there was a pause, in which Theresa was obviously searching for words.   
"Matthew, you're a necromancer. Your magic works with death. Which means...", she made an unhappy face, "which means that either your brother or yourself must be dying to create a dream."   
He should have seen it coming. Still, he couldn't prevent his face from distorting. "I don't even know _if_ Martin is still alive."   
"That doesn't make things easier. If a dead person doesn't become a spirit, he's gone forever. But if he's alive, you could theoretically find him. After all, you are close blood relatives."   
Ariel sighed. "Have I said I think this is a very bad idea?"   
"If Martin is still alive, he can disempower Josh," Matt returned in earnest and she sighed again.   
"I understand that, I really do, but... do _you_ understand what you want to do? Do you have the necessary control? I doubt it."   
"I have survived the dream Sebastian however caused without any knowledge. So I should be able to do this on my own, shouldn't I?"   
Theresa's skeptical expression was one thing, Ariel's pressed-together lips another. In her eyes, he was just an experimenting child, he knew that, but the lack of trust hurt.   
"Your Highness..." Theresa started quietly, but Ariel said coolly:   
"Did you listen to Theresa? You will have to be on your _deathbed_. And I cannot heal you."   
"I can heal him, Ariel, don't you worry about that." Theresa seemed unhappy, but touched Ariel's arm to calm her down and Matt clenched his hands in fists.   
"I want to know if Martin is still alive, and if so, what he can do for Threehills. I'm not only a necromancer, I'm also stuck in a war right now. I mean", he raised his hands in a helpless gesture, "if this goes down the drain, we probably don't need to worry about Threehills anyway, but if not, we'll be allowed to pick up a pile of debris afterwards."   
"But-" Ariel started, but he interrupted her protest with a shake of the head.   
"I mean it, Ariel. Threehills has a problem. And the likelihood that _we_ \- you and I, together- will rule the country in the future is not so small." Quietly he added: "As much as I dislike the idea..."   
For a moment Ariel stared at him, then she turned around and buried her fingers in her hair.   
Matt sighed softly. Didn't she understand his motives? Didn't she want to understand them? "I'm not doing this for fun," he finally said and she nodded thoughtfully before turning around. Her full lips were twisted into a tense sulk, fine lines ran across her forehead.   
"You must die," she said completely unemotionally and while he nodded he had the faint hope that she just didn't want to show her concern openly.   
"Is bleeding to death an option?" he wanted to know. "I know from painful experience that it can take quite a long time."   
"No." Pale Theresa shook her head. "Out here we have no way to keep the blood clean and alive to bring it back to you later."   
"Suffocation?" Ariel wanted to know and drew a tendril from the ground. Matt shivered, Theresa shook her head.   
"Unpredictable consequential damage to the brain."   
"Internal bleeding?" Ariel suggested and Theresa chewed on her lower lip.   
"As a water sorceress, this is an option, yes."   
A little awkward Matt was definitly feeling, but some options you had to take advantage of when you had them. A few weeks ago, he would have flat-out refused if someone offered him a similarly structured proposal, but now...

~

With morbid fascination and slight disgust Alex rather involuntarily listened to the conversation, but couldn't quite tear himself away either.   
"Can you make poison?" Theresa asked thoughtfully.   
Actually he had only wanted to check on his men in the lazaret.   
"Poison...? Yes. Yes, I can... I think...", Ariel replied, also thoughtfully. "Then we can balance the state between life and death..."   
"I'm _not_ an experiment," Matt seriously pointed out, and Ariel lightly said:   
"Oh, you know, we're at war. There's nothing unusual about sudden widowhood."   
Matching Matt's outraged snort, Alex turned away with a stunned shake of his head. Whatever the three of them were trying to do, he didn't want to know.

"Prince Robin asks if you would like to keep him company during training," Sev suddenly said quietly from the side and Alex turned his head in his direction.   
"Sounds good." He nodded and Sev frowned.   
"Why do you make such a disgusted face?"   
"Ariel and Theresa are discussing how best to kill Matt without letting him die."   
Sev looked confused for a second, then he made a face. "Ugh... this is... _perverse_."   
"My words..." Alex nodded to the suddenly very pale Sev as they walked through the camp together.   
"What... what happens if Matt _does_ die?"   
Alex shrugged. "King Joshua will be pleased, I guess. Everything else depends on how Ariel really feels for him and I have no clue about that. But besides that, she'll probably get frustrated with her failure and take it out on you."   
"She's gonna kill me."   
"She probably will."   
"Doesn't that bother you at all? Cause I'm _your_ prisoner."   
"And you gave the order to murder my father," Alex gave back coolly and Sev sighed devotedly.   
"Right..." He did not deny it, did not blame anyone else, but simply endured the consequences of the truth. For a second, the regret that the initial friendship was doomed to failure flared up again in Alex. Because _he_ could not deny that Sev was a man of honour.   
Though you couldn't fight well with bitterness in your stomach, he said: "We'll talk later." Speeding up his steps, he left Sev standing and quickly reached the small training area where Robin apparently gave a lesson to his younger cousin - so Alex trained himself in patience.   
Robin had called Matt a weapon, which Alex didn't like - especially since Matt wasn't a weapon. He hadn't even liked Steven calling Ariel a weapon, but unfortunately Steven was right. If you want to stick with those terms, Matt was a shield. And Alex could detest his kind of magic as he wanted to, but no real knight would go into battle without one.

~

The pentagram was damn big. Big enough to contain two smaller pentagrams.   
Matt hesitated before he stepped inside. His hands trembled when he received a small vial from Theresa - inside was a potion that was meant to open his mind. Ariel and Theresa knelt in the smaller pentagrams and Matt sat down in the space between them before he drank the vial.   
"We won't let you die, Matthew," Theresa gently promised, Ariel remained silent.   
He just nodded and lay down. Ariel didn't touch him physically, just with her magic, but he gasped; she created poison right in his body and it hurt. Within moments, tears of pain rolled down his face and he had to force himself to think of Martin. His fingers bored into the earth while he called for his brother, while his body died, while his mind rose and blew away like a breeze.

Matt blinked and stood in one of the smaller courtyards of his home castle, surrounded by deep shadows. He was disoriented for a moment, but then he recognized the heavy door leading into the dungeon; in front of it stood his own shadowy silhouette, waving to him. The purple eyes sparkled as Matt nodded silently and started to move.   
If Martin was in the dungeon, how could Josh have kept it a secret?   
In dancing twilight and swirling black streaks, Matt descended the old steps to the third basement level. He could feel the remnants of suffering, pain and death that had gnawed into the stone in all the time the castle had been standing. Sometimes he even thought he saw the ghostly remains of prisoners out of the corner of his eye, but he preferred not to think about that too much. He followed his shadow across the floor to another stairwell. The fourth basement level consisted of only a few cells and Matt couldn't suppress a stunned sound when his shadow entered one of the cells, opened a secret back wall and led him down another narrow staircase.   
That answered the question why nobody had been able to find Martin.  
The steps led into a very natural looking cave and under a crystal in the wall, which gave off a sickly blue and white light, sat Martin. Matt almost fell down the last step when he saw his brother, for not much was left of the strong knight.   
He was emaciated, covered with old and new bruises, haematomas, cuts and scars, hair and beard a dirty mess. The shackles that chained him to the wall would have been hardly needed any more.   
A shiver ran over Matt as his shadow merged with him, and then Martin raised his head.   
"Matt...?" Unbelieving and tired.  
"Yes... " Matt cleared his throat and hurried towards his brother to kneel before him. "Martin... did... did Josh do this to you?"   
"Who else?"   
"Why?"   
Martin shrugged weakly. "I wanted to leave. To Rockvalley... told him he could have Threehills all to himself... I don't know..." Although his eyes were shimmering, he didn't seem to have the strength for real tears anymore. "But Matt... how did you get here? What are you doing here?"   
"I'm in a magical dream, I was looking for you," Matt replied slowly. This was so wrong, just so wrong! Martin may have treated him badly, but he didn't deserve this. "Josh is ruining Threehills, but I'm at war. I... I can't help you." Except by informing the Kings Council.   
"War? With the Empire?" Martin frowned and Matt nodded. "Josh has told of it. If he doesn't send one of his loyal dogs, he'll come himself. Maybe it's just bullshit, but he talks about how he wants to expand when the East is weakened by war."   
"Everything Josh says is bullshit these days. The question is, how much of it will be put into action?" Matt returned cautiously and Martin sighed, a sound full of inner pain.   
"Come home, Matt. Save what can be saved before the country turns against the whole family."   
"I can't! Don't you understand? If the Empire wins, Threehills won't matter any more. It'll become an Imperial Province."   
"And if the Empire is driven out, you'll inherit a shambles. Come back, Matt. Marry a lady of influence and-"   
"Martin. I'm already married. If I leave now, we'll make Whitehill our enemy again," Matt interrupted him seriously.   
"You let yourself be talked into marrying Nathalie?" Martin looked as if he couldn't believe it.   
"No. Ariel."   
"Oh." Martin cleared his throat. "Well..."   
For a moment, Matt searched for words and then chose the truth. "I'm a necromancer, Martin," he said slowly and earnestly. "My body is dying so I can come here and talk to you. I was afraid you were already dead, so I came looking for you. I can inform the Council to get you out of here, but you must hold out a little longer." The despondent smile on Martin's face stabbed him in the heart.   
"Sorry, little brother. I was a real asshole."   
"We both know Josh took it out on you too."   
"Does that make it better?"   
"No." Matt reluctantly admitted. "But still, I'm not gonna let you die here."   
Martin nodded and a single tear rolled down his dirty cheek. "Okay... okay, I'll try." He clanked softly with his chains. "But it's hard."   
"Remember, I'm out there," Matt said and paused when he heard a shuffling sound.   
On the stairs appeared Josh, staggering and with a wine bottle in his hand. "Who are you talking to?" The words were slurred, but still understandable.   
"To myself. There's no one else here...", Martin returned quietly and indicated a shrug.   
Josh snorted, climbed down the last few steps and slowly came closer. Matt stood up and blinked, for his vision was blurred. It was strange that Josh appeared at all in this dream, that he didn't wake up, but then again, Josh didn't look completely material like Martin, but more like he was constantly fraying into black threads of smoke at the edges; the circumstance gave Matt a headache.   
"I was dreaming about Matt," Josh said abruptly.   
"Yeah?" Martin raised his eyebrows and Matt backed away as Josh spread his arms in a strange gesture.   
"Yes!" He laughed maniacally. "That little bastard snuck into the castle to set you free..."   
"That's impossible and you know it," Martin said. He sounded tired, as if they would have this conversation not for the first time.   
"Do I know that? Do I really know _for sure_?" Josh leaned forward and his eyes sparkled in the light of the crystal like those of a wild animal. "I found a reference in father's notes that made me wonder." The change of subject seemed sudden, but since Josh didn't change his posture much, he knew what he was doing. "Our adorable little baby brother is a _necromancer_."   
"Oh.", Martin did dutifully, but without real surprise. Matt frowned anxiously, but Josh didn't seem to notice.   
"He can bring her back."   
Martin smiled weakly. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?" The slap echoed in the cave.   
"Susanna is _mine_! The child was _mine_! Do you hear?" Josh fell into the dialect of the mountains that Susanna originally spoke, and through the alcohol, Matt guessed the wild accusations more than he understood them.   
But Josh's tantrum sent Matt into a state of shock, he was just a little boy again, helplessly facing his almost adult older brother.   
He watched as Josh punched Martin, again and again, saw the blood drain from Martin's nose.   
He heard the sound of skin on skin, Martin's groaning, Josh's growl, Josh's cursing.   
And he heard it crack.   
Something tore him back abruptly, ended the dream, and it was only when he crashed heavily into his own body that he realized that Josh had broken Martin's neck.

~

Sev carefully knocked on the tent flap once more and this time received a moaned _"Come in."_ in response. It was hard to see in the heavy shadows of the tent, but Matt lay curled up on the sleeping place, his face half hidden by his arms.   
"I brought you some soup," Sev said softly and came closer.   
"I'm not sure if I'll keep it with me now," Matt murmured and propped himself on one elbow with another groan.   
"You have to eat something," Sev insisted and crouched next to Matt.   
"I know," he murmured miserably. Then he looked up and gave Sev a tired smile which Sev returned carefully. Matt sat up completely and rubbed his face before he accepted the small bowl of soup; dark rings lay under his eerily shining eyes.   
When Sev rose again, his chains clanked and Matt made a choking sound. Hastily, Sev took the bowl from him as he coughed and writhed.   
"Chains..." His voice was scratchy.   
"Excuse me?" Sev asked quietly.   
"Chains... Josh had our brother in chains."   
By now Sev knew enough to understand the phrase, but Matt's stunned tears touched him. Nevertheless, this didn't help him to find comforting words.   
"I promise you something..." Matt sniffed and Sev raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to make sure you get these chains off. No prince should be in chains."   
"I'm not a prince anymore," Sev gently contradicted him. "Just a _traitor_ now. I deserve nothing else."   
"If anyone should be chained anywhere, it is Josh. So he can't hurt anyone any longer." Bitter helplessness emanated from Matt and Sev carefully placed the soup bowl at a safe distance on the floor before he crouched in front of Matt again and put a hand on his knee.   
"You don't need to save me from anything. Not even from Ariel. I've chosen my path."   
"I wish I was as brave as you."   
It was a little difficult with the restraints, but Sev moved around anyway, sat down next to Matt and nudged him gently with a shoulder. "You're brave, too." To his surprise, Matt leaned against him.   
"Oh, yeah?"   
"Yes. Already just because you married Ariel," Sev replied seriously, but he smiled as Matt chuckled choked.   
"If you're allowed to fall in love with Alex, I can fall in love with Ariel."   
"I suppose..."   
With a sniff, Matt laughed again, then they remained silent for a moment.   
"Would you rather be alone? Or shall I get Ariel?" Sev then wanted to know quietly and Matt shook his head.   
"No. It's okay. If you don't have other chores, you can stay for a little while..."   
Sev nodded silently and stroked his thumb over the chain that connected his handcuffs. It didn't allow him to put a comforting arm around Matt's shoulders, but maybe it was for the best. The last thing he needed now was Ariel bursting in and getting the wrong impression.


	14. (Not so) subtle changes

"General, please! I'm just not made for this!" Alex couldn't keep the miserable undertone out of his voice.   
"It's your job, boy," replied General Whiteriver, and his choice of words didn't come close to making Alex feel better. "Your duty as prince and knight, as future ruler. One might say your destiny."   
Alex took a deep breath and still didn't know what to say after the half-hour conversation. Two days ago, the rest of Whitehill's army had finally arrived, but instead of taking command, the General stepped back to the second row with a grandfatherly smile and left the orders to the Crown Prince. Alex's commanding staff was impressive, but the final decision was always at his own discretion and in his eyes that was just not right. He wasn't ready to bear such responsibility.   
"General. I appreciate that you don't want to tell a prince what to do, but this is not the right time. We're facing a foreign force that-"   
"Boy," Whiteriver interrupted him, "you've done well so far, and you'll continue to do well." The general smiled that confident smile that drove Alex crazy. He wished the gruff and always grumpy Blackstone was here, growling orders and giving a shit about ranks and titles. Whiteriver patted him encouragingly on the shoulder and left him standing, went back to the camp, from which they had moved away a little for the conversation.   
Alex pulled a face and stared into the remnants of the morning mist that still hung over the meadows. Like all noble squires, he had been trained to give orders one day, which he found almost a little silly, for not everyone had what it takes - neither did he, in his own eyes. There were so many men in this army who had already fought in the war against Threehills and knew what to do, and yet they left the decisions to a greenhorn. The longer this thing went on, the more he became afraid that he would make a wrong decision and that it would cost the lives of the people around him. The people who meant something to him.

"Hey..."   
He half turned around and was a little surprised to see Christian. "Hey..." he returned the greeting and averted his gaze; there was something in Christian's expression that reminded him of Steven and he didn't need that now.   
"Is everything okay?" Christian wanted to know carefully and stepped next to him, keeping him company while staring into the mist.   
He shrugged and saw out of the corner of his eye how the bastard nodded thoughtfully. "How do you do that?" Alex then asked. "How can you fight again when the other war has only just ended?"   
Christian made a slight surprised sound, almost a laugh. "I was only in the war for two years, and not permanently," he replied defensively.   
Still Alex looked at him questioningly and he sighed.   
"I ignore the nightmares and I don't need anything to sleep. I know what I can do, what the men around me can do, and I trust the decisions of my commanders."   
Alex snorted softly, but Christian already continued:   
"I have seen people stronger than me break down. Certainly this will happen to me at some point, it's just a matter of time. But I know that there will be people around me who will catch me. And that... helps."   
Surprised, Alex saw the pain on Christian's face, the gleam in his eyes, and suddenly felt pretty stupid. "Thank you," he said softly, and Christian wrung a smile from himself.   
"I'm sorry."   
"What for?"   
"For being such an asshole. In the past. Until recently. You know..." Embarrassed, he rubbed his neck and Alex nodded.   
"You're a bastard."   
The way Christian then took a deep breath irritated Alex even more. "I... I know. Anyway... I... I'll be here, by your side, if you need me... okay?"   
"Okay..." Alex slowly agreed, although Christian had been doing that all the time lately. He got a gentle nudge in the shoulder.   
"You're doing well, little brother."   
Stunned, he looked at his half-brother, who smiled wryly again and then turned away. He watched after him and wondered, not for the first time, where the guy with the biting sneer had disappeared to.

~

Actually, Matt thought, the mood should have eased up with the arrival of the main army. But it didn't, and that was only partly because the Empire Army had received reinforcements as well. He couldn't even really say why, but the tension in the air was palpable.   
Under the mild afternoon sun he marched through the camp until he reached the field forges at the far edge, here and there exchanging a nodded greeting.   
Alex stood there and listened with a stoic expression to Robin, who underlined his words with short gestures, while Sev tried to attach a freshly repaired shoulder piece to Alex' armor. At Robin's side stood one of the witcher in the strangely mixed-up looking armor of metal-plated leather, the slim long sword on his back and in an amazingly spotless tabard, adorned with the symbol of the witcher: a silver oval from which a large stag's antler grew. When Matt understood the words over the sound of the forge hammers, Robin just said:   
"- because of the magical interference. However, no one is far enough in theory-" He broke off when he noticed Alex looking past him.   
"Matt." Alex simply greeted him and Matt nodded at them.   
"I don't want to interrupt you," he said politely, though his appearance had done just that; he also promptly caught Sev's amused glance.  
"Just some theoretical problems we can't solve anyway." Robin waved off and Alex nodded.   
"What is it?"   
Robin and the witcher withdrew.   
"I wanted to talk to you in private," Matt declared seriously and Alex visibly suppressed a sigh.   
"How's the armour?" he then asked Sev, who grimaced.   
"The buckle doesn't close properly." He took the shoulder piece and went to the next blacksmith without being asked; the soft clinking of his chains gave Matt goose bumps. It was the reason he wanted to talk to Alex.   
"It's about Sev."   
"Speak."   
Matt didn't like the tone of his voice, but Alex had been under increasing tension for a few days, so he couldn't even blame him. "My request is-"   
A war horn interrupted him and they both sighed in unison.   
"Sev!" Alex called out.   
"The blacksmith is no wizard!" Sev shouted back in annoyance.   
"Matt, please set the signal for defense formation three."   
Matt nodded and sent three black orbs into the air - his magic was clearly visible in daylight and the simple code was easier than the confusing horn signals which the magic users, for example, didn't understand anyway. "We'll talk later, I suppose," he then said decidedly casually as he hurried along beside Alex.   
Alex just nodded. "Later, yes. Watch over Ariel."   
"Always."

~

Owen didn't even try to hide his tears and pushed past Sev; Will, Morgan and Zack followed him dry-faced but also clearly shaken. A few meters further on, a chalky pale Stan held a heavily sobbing Theresa in his arms and Sev hurried on.   
"Stay down", Arik said seriously to Ariel, who wanted to get up from the bunk in the lazaret, and pressed her gently down by the shoulder.   
"I have to-"   
"No, you don't have to. Alex is fine. You just rest."   
"And Matt -"   
"Matt's got a buzzing head, nothing more."   
"But-"   
"Shut up, Ariel."   
Sev pulled his shoulders up; not so much because the air was cold and damp, but because the mood was indirectly his fault.   
Alex appeared and nodded at Arik, who stepped away from Ariel.   
"He survived it, didn't he?" They were probably talking about Nicholas.   
"The worst is healed," Alex replied gloomily, implying that it wasn't all over yet.   
Arik nodded slowly. "Okay... okay." Something in the young man's voice cut deep into Sev's heart, even more than the exhausted expression on Alex's face that would soon turn to anger.   
"A-Alex...?"   
"Hmm?" Alex turned to Sev, who swallowed.   
"I-I need to tell you something." Did he have to start stuttering _now_ of all times? Alex's frowning caused a knot to form in his stomach and he wrung his hands clanking with the chains. "I-I wasn't completely honest with you." It was little more than a guilty whisper and Alex's beautiful full lips became a bloodless line. Barely noticeable, he nodded a little to the side, away from the lazaret.

They weren't going far and when Alex stopped, Sev closed his eyes.   
"I-I didn't lie to you, I j-just didn't tell you everything."   
Alex gave off a strange rumbling sound.   
"The E-empire has anti-magic orbs. Their radius of action is quite large and-"   
"What?" Alex snapped and Sev blinked at him.   
"A-anti-magic orbs...", Sev repeated carefully and understood at the same moment as Alex threw the punch that no further explanation was necessary. The slap hit him hard, but not unexpected.   
"You... you..." - apparently Alex was looking for a suitable swear word and didn't find one - "you kept this from us? Claimed you were on our side?" Alex's eyes burned into Sev's, Sev's cheek burned and his chest burned with guilt. "Three quarters of our wizards and sorceresses are dead! My sister could have died!" Devon, one of Alex's friends, also didn't survive.   
"I know." Sev said silenty. "But Alex, please believe me-"   
Alex's dagger effectively ended the conversation and reflexively Sev raised his arm defensively, as if wearing arm splints. He took a step back, but Alex made two quick steps forward and seconds later both of them - blocked by Sev's chains - went down. With a painful groan Sev tried to push Alex away, who kneeled with his full weight on Sev's left thigh and at the same time pressed his dagger against Sev's throat.   
"Just give me one damn reason why- whew!" Invisible hands pulled Alex back and Sev hurriedly propped himself on his elbows- Matt came closer with a quick step, an angry frown on his face and his left hand stretched out.   
"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, attacking a man in chains?" His voice was harsh and therefore not quite so boyish.  
Alex whirled around and reminded Sev of an angry wild cat he had seen once in his father's exotic collection as a child; he attacked Matt, who definitely rose even higher in Sev's respect, because the diplomat used a dagger and not magic to fend Alex off. But that wasn't necessarily difficult, because Alex was much too angry to fight properly.   
"Calm down!" said Matt sternly, and Alex hissed.   
"He would have let Ariel die!"   
"And you all would have let _me_ die without shedding a tear, so pull yourself together," Matt hissed back and gave Alex a surprisingly elegant kick that made the knight howl.   
Sev picked himself up in the meantime and caught Matt's gaze before he magically grabbed Alex to keep him calm.   
"What have you done?"   
"I have concealed the existence of anti-magic orbs," Sev replied quietly and ducked his head under the very, very disapproving stare.   
"May I assume that these orbs are already responsible for the disaster at the Hall of Water?"   
Sev nodded, Alex growled and Matt sighed weakly before he let go of Alex. For a moment, the two battled with glances, then something like a mask slipped over Matt's features, in which there was just enough contempt to make Sev shudder on behalf of Alex.   
"Threehill hereby declares Whitehill incapable and unworthy of taking care of the prisoners taken, according to the agreements of military law," Matt declared loudly and Alex snorted.   
"This is ridiculous!"   
"You'd better shut up, Alexander," Matt said sharply and this time Alex actually flinched. "You've just lost a lot of your credibility by attacking an unarmed man in chains." This probably wasn't how Sev would have put it, but Matt was also more of a rational person.   
"And _he_ lost his life withholding information from us! Do you know how many men and women would still be alive if we had known about these fucking orbs?"   
Placed in the position of the half-forgotten spectator, Sev frowned. There spoke the commander out of Alex, a leader who cared about his people - and with much more emotion than he usually showed. The opposite seemed to be Matt's cold condescension.   
"What do you expect?"   
Sev's frown deepened and Alex made a questioning face, too.   
"To put it in your own words, he's a bastard and a traitor," Matt added explaining and then he grabbed Sev's arm. "We will talk about this in more detail later."  
  


Sev dropped to the floor of the Hazel tent and watched with great surprise as Matt sat down on a stool with a tortured face.   
"I'm sorry."   
"Sorry for what?", Sev wanted to know in surprise.   
"I do not share Alex's opinion on the concepts of _bastard_ and _traitor_."   
"It's okay..."   
"No, it's not," Matt contradicted him, rubbing his face like he had a headache.   
Sev was silent for a while before he said softly: "Thank you."   
Matt just nodded and then they sat in thoughtful silence for another moment- Sev played with his chains, not knowing what to do now- before Matt quietly asked:   
"Why didn't you tell us about those orbs?"   
Sev looked up only briefly, saw the tired curiosity in Matt's eyes, and looked back at his chains. "The Empire destroys magic."  
Inviting silence.   
"Magic... is a divine touch and no normal human should possess it." Sev licked his lips. "It is a sacrilege. Might which is not theirs to have."   
"Why don't you just think of it as a divine blessing?" Matt wanted to know, and suddenly he sounded seriously interested.   
"Because... Because the emperor is the Father of Gods on Earth. Jureus in a human body. An emperor with magic would be too powerful, but if Jureus on Earth has no magic, no one else does either."   
Matt expelled his breath and Sev looked up. "I'd like to say _'and that's why we keep religion separate from governance'_ , but of course that's nonsense."   
"I actually don't quite understand why the families of the Old Blood should be so special if they have no religious role at all," Sev said critically.   
"The more I devote myself to one thing, the less devotion I have for other things," Matt explained with a fine smile. "If I want to be a good king, I cannot be a good high priest at the same time." He paused and the smile disappeared. "A king is responsible and commands things that don't correspond to the honourable views of the Church. He cannot treat all people equally, as the priests of the Great Mother do. And we Hazels or Appleberrys do play a certain religious role, but this is going too far now."   
Sev nodded thoughtfully and thought for a moment. "You know... in every generation two or three boys with magic are kept alive and trained. They become priests of Jureus and are strictly supervised. It is them who make artifacts like the orbs, but this is a secret even among the priests of Jureus, and I am not even sure if I, as an unimportant third prince, should know about it."   
He got a pensive look from Matt. "You are taught to hate and fear magic, aren't you?"   
Sev nodded. "Magic is reserved for the gods. To play with divine power is dangerous."   
"Are your Gods strict?"   
"Yes." Sev didn't want to admit that most of them could also be very cruel at times and were said to have a dark humour. "My father is Jureus on Earth and I, as his son who went to war, embody Mars, the god of war," he then said and paused when he saw Matt's suddenly very worried frown.   
"I've got to talk to Alex," he said and the tension was back. "Don't move."   
Before Sev could answer, Matt had already hurried out of the tent.  
  


After everything Sev heard from the outside world through the heavy tarpaulins, the first part of Matt and Alex's loud conversation took place in public. Sev suspected political reasons behind it and practiced patience after it became quiet again.   
It didn't take long, however, before Matt reappeared and fell back on his stool.   
"I really do hope that Alex calms down a bit by the evening. If Ariel finds out that I've ordered you to sleep on Threehill's state territory, we'll both have our fun with her." The resonant sigh in Matt's words irritated Sev a little until he realised that Matt hadn't made any sexual innuendo at all.   
"What... what did Alex say?"   
"I don't know if a single adjective does him justice, but you have once again managed to turn the entire army against you."   
Sev nodded, he knew that.   
"I don't know if he forgives you for that."   
"What about you? You don't seem to be angry at all," Sev said carefully and Matt sighed.   
"I'm disappointed. And wondering. But it doesn't matter, trust me. You made a wrong decision that cost lives. Alex is making decisions every day for a while now that could cost a lot of lives."   
Sev could only admire him for his sober world view.   
"Unlike you, I deliberately didn't get involved in warfare," Matt then said slowly, because Sev gave no response. "And I wasn't trained in civilian leadership either. But diplomatic negotiations also teach you that sometimes you're faced with decisions where all options suck and that you may not be able to tell how far-reaching the consequences really are. We could accuse you of giving the Empire an advantage by your silence - which you definitely have - but that won't get us anywhere."   
"I'm sorry," Sev said quietly and looked again at his chains.   
"Fear is a bad counselor, you should know that as a trained fighter. But like I said, we can't change it."   
"I'm sorry anyway, Matt. I saw-" Under Matt's gaze he fell silent, but the images of what magic could do still rose from his memory. He was nauseous, and he was suddenly struggling with tears and dizziness.

A muffled knock on the tent made him gasp for air in shock and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the rushing in his ears.   
"Give me the handcuffs," Christian suddenly said in front of him and Sev blinked confused.   
"Can you pick locks?" Matt doubtfully wanted to know from the background and Christian said, dodging the question:   
"I have the key." He pulled the key on a necklace from his tunic.   
"Oh," Matt said with surprise.   
"Alex is freeing me?" Sev asked and a little, as if he was drunk in an ugly way.   
Christian made a strange noise, more a grunt than a laugh, and replied as he removed the handcuffs: "He said something about a prisoner of Threehills should be kept in Threehills chains. But I honestly doubt that Matt has any with him. Unless he knew his princess was into that sort of thing before his wedding night." The words were meant to be mocking but lacked real humour - yet Matt blushed in outrage.   
"And you know what your sister is into?" Sev asked curiously.   
Christian, who opened the legcuffs, now actually laughed. "No. We don't talk about such things."   
Sev doubted that they were talking at all, but he didn't say anything and stood up when Christian nodded at him.   
"Come with me." And to Matt, he added, "Not you."  
  


To Sev's surprise, two other guys entered Alex's tent just moments before them and he was even more surprised when one of the people dressed in leather armor turned out to be a woman.   
There was an uncomfortably long moment of tense silence in which Sev rubbed his slightly chafed wrists and tried not to stare at the woman whose icy eyes were uncanny and who radiated a strange authority.   
"So..." she finally said, "you're Sev, right?"   
Sev nodded, the man next to her crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back a little, giving him the touch of an overbearing bodyguard.   
"Tell me about the orbs," she asked him and Sev told her. He told her everything he could think of about the Elven orbs and reported unsolicited about the structuring of an Imperial camp when he described how and where the orbs would be located after their use.

When he finally paused with a dry mouth, she and her companion exchanged a quick glance; Alex and Christian stood beside them as if none of this was any of their business.   
"You can destroy the orbs, right?"   
"You can destroy anything if you only want to," Sev returned and shrugged. "As I said, I have no idea what they are made of, because even if they look like they are made of red clay, they are too sturdy on one hand and too light on the other hand."   
"Weight is relative..." she murmured absently and Sev noticed with irritation how Christian slightly grimaced. "What is the range of the orbs now?"   
"Now? Half a meter, I guess, a whole meter at most."   
The man made a grumpy noise and asked: "Did it influence the witcher?"   
"Not the witcher themselves, but all the enchantments in their equipment are gone," Christian replied.   
"No rings," the man growled and the woman shook her head in a strangely choppy gesture.   
"Just for backup."   
"You're not going yourself, are you?", Christian asked with a faint concern in his voice and she snorted.   
"I like my life, so no, I won't risk it."   
So she was a sorceress? Then why was she wearing armor and not a robe? She confused Sev terribly, but Christian seemed calmer.   
"Get some volunteers and some people who can handle the rings. Oh, and tell Corry I'll give him a kick in the ass if he gets the idea of going along," she said to her companion.   
He nodded seriously. "All right." Then he bowed his head politely in Alex's direction and received an almost brotherly short shoulder pat from Christian before he left the tent.   
"The orbs sound both meaner and more pleasant than the collars used here," she then said, addressed to no one in particular.   
"You use anti-magic collars?" Sev asked in surprise.   
"In the Halls, yes, for rampaging novices." She nodded.   
"Have you any experience with them?"   
"Fortunately not."   
"You could have tried it," Christian remarked quietly, almost amused by her discomfort, as well as her slightly annoyed look.   
"Thanks, but no thanks."   
"What were you doing with such collars?" Alex asked in between and sounded as confused as Sev felt.   
"Don't you know that father had one made for Ariel?" Christian asked back and when Alex shook his head he added: "It's actually really pretty."   
"It is, and before you ask: we borrowed it and brought it back; no one noticed." She nodded at Alex, who looked as if he had stomach ache, and Sev wondered what they had done with it. "If you think of anything else useful, let me know," she said to Sev, who nodded hurriedly. "I don't order anything, but I don't forbid anything either. Can you live with that?" she asked Alex afterwards, who grimaced even more, but nodded. "Very well." Without any further greeting she turned to leave and Christian followed her.   
"Can I help in any way?"   
"Shut up and stay in the camp," she said succinctly.   
"Come on, Ari, I'm not saying that I-"   
"No, Christian, you keep your feet still."   
"But-"   
"Do we have to chain you to an anvil?"   
The answer was only muffled muttering and then Sev realized he was alone with Alex. He cleared his throat sheepishly and then asked quietly:   
"What exactly is... Ari?"   
"The green sleeves are rogues. And she is also a sorceress," Alex said curtly.   
"What exactly are _rogues_?" Sev wanted to know, because he was not familiar with the word - at least not when it came to job titles.   
"Thieves, murderers, cheats..."   
"Such people are hanged by us and are not part of the army..." Sev said sceptically and Alex frowned.   
"They are useful." He didn't seem to fully believe his own words. "And they are loyal." He seemed to doubt that personally as well. "Samson sent them."   
Sev nodded and then the subject was closed, whereupon an uncomfortable silence spread again. "I'm sorry," he said seriously and Alex growled:   
"I don't want to talk about this right now."   
"Okay, but" - Alex frowned angrily but didn't interrupt Sev- "I still want to tell you that I regret my decision to remain silent."   
Alex turned away and Sev swallowed.   
"Your anger is justified. And yet I would rather enlist in the battle arena for ten years than face another fight with a horde of sorceresses." _Battle arena_ was not the right word, but Sev didn't have a better translation and maybe, hopefully, Alex could imagine something behind it.   
"We all make our decisions and have to live with them," Alex murmured and Sev had the impression as if he had actually been listening to Matt. Alex seemed to want to say more, but then turned around with a bitter look on his face and just said: "Now get out of here. My men are waiting for me."

~

Two-part snoring filled the tent, accompanied by Will's calm breaths. Alex couldn't sleep and turned around for the hundredth time when he felt an unexpected breeze on his cheek. He raised his head and then flinched back when Ari suddenly sat next to him.   
"Hello," she said with a smile.   
"What are you doing here?" he asked and sat up.   
"Oh, I wanted to let you know my guys are on their way."   
"Okay."   
"And I wanted to have a little chat if that's okay."   
"A chat?" He looked at her in surprise and she nodded.   
"Why not? I didn't even have to wake you up."   
Stunned, he blinked into the magic light. "Okay..."   
She sat more comfortably and he couldn't get rid of the feeling that she had deliberately come here to talk.   
"Can I ask you something?"   
"Sure." She made an inviting gesture, and he cleared his throat embarrassed.   
"What... what is this collar story? I mean, you and Christian... you know each other from somewhere, right?" In the whole mess, he never even got to ask Christian about his strange reaction to Ari's appearance.   
"I asked him for help on a mission last year," she explained.   
"He borrowed the collar from father?"   
"No." She grinned. "That was my Guild Master, Cullen."   
Alex frowned. "It's a little disconcerting to hear that you're just walking in and out of our castle."   
"Oh, you know, Cullen could have just walked up to Steven in the study and asked him, only to tell us a thrilling sneak story afterwards."   
"He knew my father _personally_?" Alex was so flabbergasted, his mouth stayed open.   
"Rogues are organized in an approved guild," she returned amused. "Including Guild Master and Guild Council, and we pay taxes like everyone else." With a slight shrug she added: "I also knew Steven personally. Christian looks remarkably like him." That was true, but the fact that the King was in contact with the rogues himself left a feeling of unease; he wouldn't have thought of it from Samson's short letter alone.   
"So you and Christian... worked together."   
"Right."   
"And now?"   
"Now we're friends."   
"Friends," he repeated skeptically. "When you showed up, he didn't look too enthusiastic. Earlier, he seemed worried."   
She drew the corner of her mouth into a half-hearted smile. "What can I say? Our last conversation in Feather Springs, before he left with the army, wasn't exactly pleasant. But we talked about it."   
He didn't really believe her, and she probably noticed because she sighed softly.   
"We're friends, and all friendships have their ups and downs."   
"He said if he ever broke down, there were people to catch him. Are you one of them?" Alex curiously asked.   
Her nodding was absolutely serious. "He caught me when I needed it, so, yes, definitely."   
It was strange to imagine Christian in a harmless friendship with a woman. Especially since Ari was quite attractive, as Alex had to admit.   
"Christian isn't a bad guy just because he was born a bastard," she said quietly. "He may have a few more defects than others, but which one of us is flawless?"   
"Nobody, I suppose," Alex returned just as quietly and she nodded with a fine smile.   
"Besides, I know him better than all his siblings put together, so don't be too harsh in your judgment."   
"Do you spend that much time together?" Another thing that surprised him.   
"It has nothing to do with how much time you spend together. You have to talk to each other. Even about the unpleasant things," she explained and sat a little differently. "We spent a lot of nights on the roof of the _Red Frog_ , just chatting."   
"That doesn't sound like the Christian I know." Alex reluctantly admitted and she laughed softly.  
"When he leaves the barracks, it's only to drink, to gamble or to whore in your eyes, right?"   
Before Alex could answer, she shook her head.  
"Would you believe me if I told you that the last time he entered a brothel was at the end of last year? Probably not."   
"No..."   
"You see..."   
"You like him," Alex said and as he said this he realized that Ari was probably the reason why Christian had changed so much.   
"Of course." A mocking smile played around her lips. "Friendship usually implies a certain amount of affection."   
"No, I- well, yeah, right, but I mean, you like him more than that." Under her gaze Alex's cheeks became warm.   
"No. I am perfectly happy being friends. Is that so hard to imagine?"   
Somehow it was, but maybe that was because he had a certain image of Christian in his head that didn't match what she had just told him.   
"Is everything okay with you?" she then asked, tearing him a little from his drifting thoughts.   
"Yeah, sure. Why?"   
"Christian said you seemed a little... tense." The way she said it, Christian had certainly used a completely different word. But she wasn't wrong.   
He shrugged half-heartedly.   
"You can tell me about it if you want to," she said strangely gentle. "Nothing that is spoken between us reaches other ears."  
"What do you want me to tell you now?" he wanted to know a little dismissively and she shrugged now herself.   
" _Why_ are you so tense?"   
He pondered the answer for a moment, but instead asked back: "What's the point of telling you?"   
"Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot." Her eyebrows twitched meaningfully and she tilted her head.  
They both hesitated, then it was she who spoke first.   
"You know... your father once made me a special offer."   
"What kind of offer?" Alex asked in between and she rolled her eyes.   
"To stay the night."   
He blushed at the thought.  
"I wanted to know why he suddenly made such a suggestion."   
"What did he say?" Alex asked curiously and she smiled, almost sadly.   
"Might makes you lonely."   
He stared at her in amazement. That was pretty much the point. After clearing his throat, he asked quietly: "Did you stay?"   
"I did the same thing I'm doing to you now: offering to listen."   
Oddly enough, that touched him in a way he didn't expect, and he looked over at his sleeping friends. His friends who had been drifting further and further away from him since his naming as crown prince, even Will. His friends who, without him, had prayed for Devon at sunset, because he had discussed with Whiteriver and the officers. His friends, who talked about knights and soldiers he didn't know because he didn't have time to train with all of them. Even Will didn't seem to understand how heavy the responsibility weighed when you really had to carry it and not just play around with it in theory classes. But what was the point of telling Ari about it?   
"You don't have to talk to me," she said softly, touching his arm gently. "But if you want to, all you have to do is call for me."   
He nodded weakly and she rose.   
"Sleep well, little prince."   
With his next blink, she was gone and a faint smell of warm rain tickled his nose. With a frustrated sigh, he lay down and buried his face in the crook of his arm.

~

When Matt woke up, he still had a headache. Not as bad as the day before, but still unpleasant. Ariel next to him was restless and he created a magical light - her face twitched from a dream and a smile sneaked up on his lips. Gently he brushed a strand from her forehead and said a thankful prayer in his mind that he didn't have to mourn Ariel like so many other sorceresses.   
Suddenly she took a frightened breath and then she opened her eyes.   
"Good morning," he whispered.   
"Is it a good morning?" she whispered back.   
"We are still alive," he replied and pulled her towards him to kiss her on the forehead.   
"Hmm," she mused. That was something he actually enjoyed: those moments in the morning between waking up and getting up, when he could just hold her and pretend that everything around them was perfectly normal.   
"Why are you smiling?" she asked and he grinned silly.   
"Because I'm happy."   
She raised an eyebrow skeptically.   
"Even if it's only for those five minutes."   
With a smile, she shook her head. "You're silly."   
"Am I? Because I enjoy holding you? I mean, hey, you're just my wife..."   
Her smile changed, became something he had never seen on her in public before, always just in togetherness.   
"I love you. I love you and I wish every man could say that to his wife." His chest stung painfully, but he ignored it and focused on Ariel, who instead of a verbal response, simply kissed him. Well, not _simply_ , but really, intensely and passionately. He would have preferred a verbal answer though, but he didn't protest at all when first her hands and then her mouth moved over his body. And because he knew that she liked them, he made soft sounds of delight which got louder and more intense as she polished his sword. He bit his lip, which didn't dampen his moans in the least, and buried his hand in her hair. Their eyes met and his _'I love you'_ died on his tongue, because for a tiny moment he had the feeling of seeing Sebastian there.   
And then he cried out as a brutal pain exploded in his chest.

~

Sev knocked at the Hazel tent, but in consideration of Ariel's raised voice it was probably pointless. Still he knocked again, balancing the small tray with the breakfast, and finally just stepped in.   
What looked like sex at first was probably none, because although a naked Ariel was sitting on a naked Matt, she sat a bit too high up - and she pressed a small dagger on his chest.   
"You can't just cut it out!" he protested.  
"Maybe, maybe not," she coolly returned. They didn't even notice Sev and so he just put down the tray and retreated, ignoring the strange conversation.   
Alex stood in front of his own tent and rubbed his eyes; he didn't look as if he had slept well or even enough. "What are you making that face for?" he wanted to know and Sev pointed to the tent behind him.   
"Possible that Ariel is killing him right now. But maybe they're just arguing. Or maybe they have a very strange kind of foreplay."   
Alex blinked, then shook his head weakly. "Do we really want to know?"   
"Not really," Sev muttered, although it would be a shame if Matt died in such an inglorious way. He was very fond of the diplomat and owed him.

Alex made his usual rounds through the camp and Sev followed him silently, which Alex didn't seem to be very thrilled about, but he didn't say anything about it either; together they stared a little later into the fog over the meadows separating the two armies. This real heavy fog like here didn't exist in Sev's home and when he had seen this billowing white soup for the first time, he had thought it was magically enhanced.   
"Matt said you were a god among your own people," Alex finally broke the silence.   
Sev looked at him a little surprised, then shook his head. "I am the personification of a god, but this is different from being one."   
Alex's face said very clearly that this was too much for him, and he also simply ignored the explanation by saying: "Surely they want you back."   
"Of course they do," Sev returned. "I'm already surprised they haven't done anything about it. The Elven orbs would have been ready for action much earlier."   
Alex nodded thoughtfully, exhibiting a grim frown, and remained silent for a moment.   
Sev wanted to ask him for forgiveness again, but he had enough knowledge of human nature to know that Alex needed time and space for his thoughts.   
"Why," Alex then slowly began, "did you betray your people?" Questioningly he looked at Sev. "I mean, you said you spent ten years preparing for this war."   
"That's a very complex and very personal answer." Sev wasn't sure to what extent he could or should explain it to Alex, because it was definitely the wrong time for profound emotional explanations.   
"You don't have to answer, I'm just curious. But after so much preparation and if you're treated like a god... why would you give that up for _this_?"   
"Don't laugh at me, okay?"   
"Why should I?"   
Sev nodded and sucked on his lower lip for a moment before saying: "Magic is a negative thing for the Empire. We both fear and despise it, and that's why the families where these magic-sensitive marks appeared were elevated to nobility - as a reward for the fight against false divinity." He touched his mark briefly and Alex nodded slightly. "My mother told me in a letter about a vision of our goddess of love and our god of war. Usually she is shown naked and he in armor, but in the vision it was the other way round and they spoke of a tournament. That same day, I received an invitation to the tournament in Whitehill." He paused. He had thought a lot about the meaning of the vision, but it was hard to put those thoughts into words. "I don't think they were really talking about that tournament. The gods sometimes fight each other for fun, and what they see as a tournament is war for us humans."   
"Love and war... does that mean you should have chosen between them?" Alex asked uncertainly and Sev made an indefinite gesture.   
"When I met you and Matt I had a strange feeling, a warning tingle between the shoulder blades. By now I know that I was dreaming about you and Matt and Ariel before, that you warned me in a dream before I had even met you."   
Alex looked at him skeptically.   
"When we destroyed the Hall of Water, I kind of freaked out, I think. The others called it a trauma, but... I don't know. All the magic in the air was driving me crazy." Remembering the feeling, he almost unconsciously scratched at his mark. "And then I saw you fight. Saw Ariel's magic. How my own people, controlled by Matt, are killing each other. There were your voices from the forgotten dream..."   
"So you gave up everything for... a vision and a dream?" Alex sounded so incredulous it almost hurt.   
"A warning from the gods combined with my fear of magic," Sev put it a little differently. Alex didn't laugh, but his reaction was still disconcerting. Actually, Sev shouldn't have expected anything else...   
"You have left your Gods behind," Alex said after a pause and Sev nodded, although Alex' tone of voice seemed strangely artificially strict to him. He couldn't really judge Alex' attitude towards religion, so he let a remark about the kindness of the Great Mother go before it could be misinterpreted. And then Alex surprised him by asking:   
"This mark... does it hurt? How does it feel to be surrounded by magic permanently?"   
"It doesn't hurt," Sev quickly reassured him and brushed across it. "I have gotten so used to it that I only feel a tingle during the fights." He blushed under Alex's staring gaze and then it burst out of him: "Do you think it's ugly?"   
Stunned, Alex looked at him. "No. It's... _weird_. But not ugly." He reached out his hand and paused, his fingertips inches from Sev's neck. "May I?"   
Sev nodded and swallowed hard, a shiver went down his spine and Alex pulled his fingers back.   
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."   
"No... no, it doesn't hurt." Sev's body, from scalp to toe, was tingling and his face felt like it was burning. "It's just more sensitive than the rest..." He wished he didn't have to lie.   
"Feels normal, though," Alex said, as if to reassure him.   
Sev forced himself to smile and already had a remark about rough soldier hands on his lips when someone called for Alex. Promptly Alex turned away and Sev took a moment to collect his thoughts before he followed him.   
He could see how Alex's posture changed with every step, how the tension crept back into his body. Sev didn't miss being the center of attention at all, because all too soon Alex was surrounded by a group of men who all either had important concerns or hoped to be asked for advice by the young commander. Had Sev been allowed to give Alex advice, he would have suggested that he send the men from the second group - who usually didn't offer any constructive contributions at all - away without hesitation. But Alex listened patiently to all of them.   
A first raindrop hit Sev's head and he ran a hand across his skull where the hair grew slowly - that Alex thoughtfully tugged at one of his braids at the same moment made Sev smile.

His mother's vision hadn't shown him a decision, he didn't have to choose. His betrayal had made him fight on both sides. But what was more important: he had understood.   
He was the naked Mars, deprived of everything that made him what he was. And Alex was Venyte, loved and adored, but fully equipped so that nothing and no one could get too close to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started "The Dragons of Whitehill", I stumbled over a folder with old notes and had to realize that I had created the Eastern Kingdoms already a good 15 years ago. In fact, the magic system was the biggest difference and I just couldn't resist putting the story into Sam's world; things just fit together too well.   
> I think the biggest change (besides Matt's supposedly hateful necromancy) was Christian, who was in the original fluffy teen story a sweet (and legitimate) toddler. 
> 
> Speaking of which, if you want to know more about Ari and Christian, you're most welcome to read "Dancing Rogues".


	15. Falling Tears

Alex wasn't sure when he had last hugged Ariel. Properly, like now, and not just fleetingly like a greeting. He leaned his forehead against hers and for a moment the world was fine.   
"Is everything all right?" she promptly wanted to know and leaned back to look at him.   
"Yes," he said with a smile, although it was not. But why should he burden her with his problems, which she couldn't understand anyway? She had no military training, no responsibility. Her magic ran through his body and made him shudder, although the touch was familiar and pleasant.   
"You are terribly tense," she noted, and he felt his muscles being forced to relax.   
"I know." His smile shrank but never disappeared. For her. "I'm with the overall situation..." - he didn't want to use the word "overwhelmed", although it would have been appropriate - "not happy."   
She nodded thoughtfully and he bit his lip. Ariel wasn't the most empathetic person he knew, but even if so... There were a few things that had sneaked between them. Life, for example, if you don't want to use names.   
"You know you can always talk to me," she said affectionately and he nodded. But before he could open his mouth to ask her how the mood was in the magical area of the camp, her lips tightened in a way that only Sev could evoke. Since he really didn't want to talk about _him_ with Ariel, he said:   
"Don't worry about me. Just make sure you don't strain yourself too much."   
With an eye roll, she took a step back; under her robes she had become thin and although Alex hated the term _twin magic_ , she proved at this moment that they were connected. His body was challenged and hers became weaker. "I eat enough, don't worry. Matt is taking care of it." Her reply was a little grumpy, but Alex nodded.   
"Good." Was it fair that Matt had such a wonderful woman like Ariel at his side while Alex felt a little left alone? Was it fair that Christian of all people could call an obviously strong woman like Ari a friend while Alex was losing his friends? Was it fair of him to think that way?   
Ariel kissed him on the cheek and walked away, but Sev came closer.   
"What's up?" Alex asked quietly, without really looking at him and maybe a little too listless.   
"Nicholas has woken up," Sev replied only slightly louder and Alex nodded.   
"Okay, thanks."

He hadn't come far when Christian and Ari came to meet him. She seemed tense and nodded to him.   
"I am pleased to announce that the mission was successful."  
"Good." He nodded briefly as well; he didn't really need to know anything more. However: "How many of your people did you lose?"   
Her lips twitched slightly. "Five." But since he hadn't asked in advance how many she had sent out, it could mean anything. Five out of fifteen was a different cut than five out of thirty, even he could manage that.   
"And Tom?" Another question of politeness, but now she showed the hint of a smile.   
"Just a few scratches." The smile disappeared and was replaced by a slight frown. "What does Sev say about how the Empire will react?"   
"Good question," Christian murmured somewhat uneasily. "If they assume that we tortured him to find out about their secret weapon, then-"   
"They could have reacted much earlier," Alex said and shrugged. "But we have to expect everything. Make sure that the guards around the camp and the lookouts are reinforced."   
Christian nodded seriously. "Can I hire the rogues for this? They're bored and it will get dangerous one day..."   
Ari snorted, but Alex nodded.   
"You know them better than me, so go ahead." Alex couldn't really interpret the expression that scurried across Christian's face, but it left the hint of a smile.   
"Okay."   
They nodded at each other and went their separate ways.

However, before Alex went to Nicholas in the lazaret, he made a detour to the bird master. He had seen several messenger birds arrive and wanted to make sure he was up to date with the bad news.   
"Can you deliver this message?" the bird master asked hesitantly and held out a letter to Alex. He wished he hadn't come here.   
"Sure." With a nod he took the message and gritted his teeth when he looked at the double seal. It should have been purple and dark blue, not black, although double seals were generally to be taken with caution.

And so he went to Nicholas, who sat up with a moan when he saw Alex.   
"How does it look, Alex?" He was pale and his cheeks were sunken - he looked much older than he was.   
"Depends who you ask," Alex replied, imitating Nicholas' relaxed tone. "The Green Sleeves got a problem off our backs and now I guess the odds are even."   
"As if you had the brains to figure it out."   
Alex stuck his tongue out at Nicholas and got a strained grin in response. Nicholas wasn't made for the burden of the crown Alex handed him in the form of the message. It hovered between them for a moment, the double seal clearly visible, and Nicholas looked as if he would faint as he reached for it with a trembling hand. Alex wanted to say something, but had no idea what, so he remained silent, swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw Nicholas' tears, and heard the double crack of the breaking of the seals overloud.   
For a moment he wondered if Nicholas could still read at all with all the tears, but basically the possibilities of the content were also very limited. Nevertheless, the silence stretched and when Alex was almost ready to believe that Nicholas would really faint, he whispered soundlessly:   
"The King is dead." The message slipped from his fingers. Alex took a breath, but then changed his mind and sat down next to Nicholas, pulled him to himself and only then said:   
"Long live the King."   
Nicholas Elderblossom, uncrowned King of Ringbay, sobbed on his shoulder.   
"King?", Nicholas choked out at some point. "King?" Alex didn't need to explain to him how the succession to the throne worked, so he just quietly confirmed:   
"King."   
"King of Nothing. A king without a kingdom or a crown."   
"We're going to take back your reign," Alex said earnestly, gently squeezing Nicholas' shoulder. "We're taking it back, Nick, and no emperors or foreign gods can stop us, do you hear me?" He thought of the white Swanford and the shell-decorated houses of Shellhaven, thought of the quiet manor house somewhere on the coast where they had spent so many summers together.   
"They took it just like that," Nicholas said miserably, and Alex swallowed.   
"We'll take it back anyway." His throat and eyes were burning, but he held Nicholas, who kept sniffing, for a very long time.

~

The bird master looked as if he feared for his life, simply because he was constantly giving out bad news.   
Matt couldn't even blame him for his concern, because besides the fact that there was war, there were enough other problems in the Eastern Kingdoms, and in a camp like this there were enough unruly men. He received his own letter and broke the seal of Threehills, whereupon a rather short message unfolded.   
Lord Gorse announced in a nutshell that Matt had now been officially appointed Crown Prince and Lord Hazel, and the only thing missing was his presence to proclaim him regent. The unspoken accusation that he was still far from home resonated clearly in his words.   
"Great...", Matt murmured and folded the letter back together.   
"Did it hit your brother?" When Alex asked him, he winced and was surprised to see his reddened eyes.   
"No."   
"Unfortunately or fortunately?"   
"At the moment, I'm leaning towards _fortunately_. Not that I enjoy fighting, but if he dies, Ariel and I would have to leave, and I think now would be a very bad time for that."   
Alex nodded slowly and Matt asked cautiously:   
"Is everything all right?"   
Alex didn't look all right, he seemed like he had cried, and that didn't contribute to Matt's mood. "Nathaniel is dead. Theodore's widow has written," Alex said curtly and with a hint of bitterness.   
"Poor Nicholas," Matt said softly, Alex nodded. For a moment they looked at each other, silently sharing the realization that they could both too soon become uncrowned kings in the middle of a war. The thought made Matt's stomach queasy, even though his homeland had only to deal with a mad king and was not invaded by a foreign power.   
"Were... were you trained to govern?" Alex hesitantly asked.   
Matt shook his head. "Not really. I know what I'm playing with when I negotiate, but that doesn't explain tax laws or jurisdiction."   
Alex bit his lower lip briefly. "Neither were Nicholas and I. If we win this war..." He hesitated and Matt nodded.   
"Three sovereigns, who should never have ruled, are allowed to clean up the chaos. Well, there are worse things. At least as long as Sunplains and Rockvalley keep each other in line, we don't have to fear them." He sounded a lot more optimistic than he felt - which was good, because Alex nodded with some relief on his face.   
"Okay... Okay, Matt..." He seemed to want to say something, but then he let it go, and Matt raised his letter in allusion.   
"I will write a short answer. Do you think Nicholas is ready for a friendly word or should I wait?"   
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying this as a friend or as a diplomat?"   
"Oh. As a friend. Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." The faux pas had been stupid and avoidable and Matt was blushing.   
"I sent Arik to him, but if you want to talk to him tonight... I think he'll be a little more composed by then."

~

Alex's feet carried him almost by themselves to the practice area, from which there was audible cheering and laughter. When he entered the ring of the audience, he was surprised to see Ari and Christian involved in a dagger fight. He had never seen any of the rogues fight before and was fascinated by Ari's speed and grace. Christian seemed to be very clumsy next to her, although he fought differently than the knights had been taught to fight - apparently he had copied one or the other element.   
It was like a dance full of deadly elegance, dominated by Ari, who played with Christian - who, however, also let himself be played with willingly. Both obviously enjoyed the fight.   
Christian shouted mocking words to her, which she laughed heartily about and avoided his following attack.   
"You've already peeled yourself out of your armor and yet you're as slow as a snail," she mocked - one half of the audience cheered, the other half booed.   
"Slow and steady, my dear, slow and steady," Christian returned and stabbed at her, whereupon she slid to the side. "Is better than staggering around like a drunken bumblebee."   
"More like an aggressive wasp," someone shouted before Ari could answer.   
"No, a bumblebee." Christian shook his head with a grin. "Just look at her fat ass."   
Ari snorted unimpressed, and sent Christian to the ground, who skillfully unrolled and came staggeringly to his feet.   
"Interesting style."   
Alex flinched when suddenly Matt appeared next to him. "Weren't you going to write a letter?" The newly proclaimed crown prince nodded and watched the fight with a frown.   
"I was. But I think I'll talk to Nicholas first."   
Alex shook his head slightly and turned his gaze back to the scene where Christian had just caused Ari to stumble. "Always the diplomat, hmm?" he asked into the cheers.   
"Of course. In the given situation, however, it is enough for me if I can write anything at all to Lord Gorse on the subject of Ringbay."   
"Hmm. Sev said that the man who is to be the Imperial Advisor to the Royal Governor is quite agreeable within the given framework."   
"Fair enough, but as long as Nicholas is here, there is no Royal Governor, only a wild king, and if he falls - which is within the bounds of possibility - the role falls to Nicholas' nephew. How old is he?"   
"Whew... Thomas should be five or six now, but I'm not sure."   
"Well, I doubt that his mother is very important to the empire. If they declare Nicholas dead right away, they'll have a wonderful puppet with the boy."   
Alex and Matt looked at each other for a second, and Alex made a face. Did he have to deal with this problem as well?   
He got around to answering, because Christian landed on the ground again and this time he stayed lying there with a moan.   
"Come on, you oh so mighty knight, up you go." Ari put her hands on her hips.   
"I surrender."  
"That's what I wanted to hear."   
Again they cheered and booed, but Christian grinned broadly and let Ari help him up. Strangely enough, Alex was stung that Christian seemed so happy despite his shameful defeat and Ari looked almost proud that Christian had done so well at all. She patted him on the shoulder and then asked:  
"Anyone else want another round, now that I'm warm?"   
Matt also laughed quietly and because no one answered, Alex gave him a push - just hard enough that he stumbled clearly forward. He knew from experience that Matt was extremely good with the dagger, but for most others it would be a nice surprise.   
"Hey!", Matt protested quietly, but by then Ari was already laughing amused.   
"Lord Hazel... now that's what I call a surprise. Do you want to fight with magic daggers?"   
Matt raised his chin. "No magic, Ari." He drew his dagger and stepped forward, turning a little and giving Alex a deadly look, who raised his hand in a greeting with the hint of a grin.

A little later Alex corrected his impression of the fight between Ari and Christian. It had been nothing more than banter. _This_ was a deadly dance and you could clearly see the surprise on Ari's face. Alex, on the other hand, was quite satisfied, as he could be sure that his brother-in-law would be able to protect Ariel in a magical as well as non-magical way.   
Matt leaned back and to the side under her swing, but remained steadfast and then threw his arms forward. Alex wasn't sure if Matt's way of constantly switching the weapon from one hand to the other was really wise considering what kind of opponent Ari was, but he admitted it made for a nice spectacle.   
And then he instinctively flinched like many others. Ari had thrown her dagger- and Matt had caught it in a magical shield, just a few fingerbreadths from his eye.   
"So much for no magic," Ari sneered as he plucked the dagger from the air.   
"I prefer to keep my eyesight. Nice dagger." Matt smiled his diplomatic smile and Alex tensed involuntarily, but Ari accepted the dagger and smiled back in the same way.   
"Was a gift." She obviously meant it seriously and Matt's smile became real again.   
"Oh, and you won."   
She laughed. "You would think so, yes. But it's nice to hear you admit it so freely."   
He shrugged and very obviously turned his wedding ring. "I'm used to losing to women by now."   
This caused a lot of laughter and Alex had to grin, too. However, he stopped smiling as soon as Ari looked at him.   
"Hey, hey... another prince today?"   
He shook his head, because in a dagger fight he would only embarrass himself and he couldn't afford that. "I prefer swords." He didn't like the subtle giggle, and he didn't really like Ari's grin.   
"Then you should stick to the witcher, my prince, they have the biggest." The joke was involuntary at his expense and he blushed, but he couldn't think of a smart answer.   
"Compensation attempts usually backfire," Christian interfered mockingly and strolled over to Alex, while Matt gave him a friendly nudge with the shoulder.   
Ari nodded greetings to them and then the ring of spectators disintegrated.   
"You are idiots," Alex said angrily and stomped away.   
Christian's happy laughter echoed after him and it wasn't the first time that day that he wondered why he wasn't allowed to laugh so carefree. Why jokes at his expense had a completely different weight.

~

The early darkness of the autumn caused Matt to move in the light of a magical spark. The torches and lanterns of the camp left shadow spots too large for his taste. Avoiding a man with the arms full of empty quivers, he was already mentally absorbed in a conversation with Ariel about the situation in Threehills when a magical breeze made him pause. Recognizing Ari's magic, he looked around briefly, but discovered nothing until he looked up.   
At the same moment his gaze fell on the silvery glowing crossed daggers hovering in the sky, shouts were already being raised in the camp.   
They were under attack.  
He ran on hurriedly until he reached the princely part of the camp, where everyone was gathering. Ariel came with Arik and Nicholas - who should have been still in the infirmary - from one side, Alex with Sev, Will and Owen from another, and Christian and Ari from still other sides.   
Ari gasped. "Get ready! We'll stop them!" And then she disappeared back into the shadows, whereby Christian's _"Wait!"_ probably went unheard.   
"Hold our magic users back until we can protect them properly," Alex said seriously and Matt caught his gaze for a moment.   
"Put on armor! Defense Formation One! Put on armor," General Whiteriver's voice boomed, and Matt let the signal rise into the air where it sat next to Ari's silver daggers.   
"Matt!" Ariel grabbed him by the arm. "Your magic can tell friend from foe, can it not?"   
"Y-yes, why?"   
"Then come!" She dragged him with her.   
"What are you going to do?" he wanted to know, broke free and began to run in amazement as she grabbed her robes and ran.   
"The green sleeves don't wear proper armor... the legionaries are mowing them down..."   
"We don't wear armor either," he returned and Ariel wheezed.   
"Did I say we would fight?"   
"But... then what are you going to do?"   
"Defend."   
"Dear, I- oh, Great Mother, that sounds terrible- I need fresh corpses for this." Someone bumped into her and Ariel gasped and cursed while Matt was disgusted with his own statement.   
_"When you begin to despise yourself, when you begin to hate what you are or what you do, it is the beginning of the end,"_ whispered the soft voice inside him as they reached the eastern edge of the camp. _"You are not an ordinary man, you don't need to destroy yourself. Your magic does it for you."_   
Irritated by the words, Matt tried to see something in the darkness. Well, more than fighting shadows at least. For a moment he strangely thought of Sebastian, but then Ariel pulled him to the ground.   
"Lend me the part of your magic that can tell friend from foe." She pressed his hand to the ground and then grabbed his other hand, pressed her fingers into the ground herself. He could feel her magic and tried to filter his own magic, but it was impossible. But the pull of might carried him away. Not as powerful and devouring as he usually knew, but... angry, yet directed.   
Ariel's magic meandered away from her, to the left and right, forward, fanning out and forming tripping hazards row after row.   
"Spores," she whispered, half in his ear, half in his mind.   
"What?," he asked confusedly.   
"Spores... Like seeds carried through the air. Help me..."   
He had no idea what she was doing, but she tapped into his magic, a tiny little bit of his magic, made it flow very specifically into the patterns of her hidden tendril structures. Matt could see it, the green and purple and black sparkle casting a sick gray haze over the rest of the world. He was a part of it, was a part of Ariel, intertwined with her in so much more intense ways than sex would ever allow. A fascinating realization that triggered a sharp sting in his chest. Both of these, however, caused the magic to burst out of him almost uncontrollably, like a magical orgasm.   
Ariel next to him trembled. "Yes..." she whispered. "Oh, yes..." Cruelty... the lust for cruelty sounded in her voice and she almost purred as she absorbed his magic and then worked it into her texture.   
Matt was disgusted and fascinated at the same time as he slowly realized what she was doing.

~

In the resulting chaos Sev actually felt a little lost. Until now he had spent the battles somewhere safe, hidden, guarded, but not in the middle of it. A little astonished, he saw Ariel and Matt running in the wrong direction, disobeying Alex's orders and heading straight for the coming battle, but someone grabbed his wrist and dragged him along. Alex.   
"Help me with the armor," he hissed and pushed him into the big tent where Will and Owen were already packing themselves into their armor. Sev's fingers flew over the armor and the buckles while he followed the order.   
Owen cursed to himself, Will mumbled a prayer, and then Sev hit a crate with his heel. He had put the crate there himself and filled it properly - it contained Devon's armor.   
"Alex...Alex, let me fight at your side," he begged and Alex paused. A concentrated frown lay on his beautiful face. "Please."   
Will muttered something that sounded like "not a good idea," but Owen grunted.   
"If he wanted to stab you, he could have done it a hundred times a day."   
"But in battle, that's less noticeable," Will critically pointed out.   
Valuable time passed when Sev and Alex just looked at each other. Long enough for Owen to finish and rush outside.   
"Take Devon's armor before I change my mind," Alex murmured then, obviously not convinced by his own words, but Sev nodded hurriedly.

The breastplate was too massive for Sev's slim figure, but there was nothing he could do about it. Will hurried outside and with a quiet curse Alex stepped to Sev and helped him with the armor.   
"You stay by my side," he growled and Sev nodded.   
"Of course. Um... Alex, there's no sword in the box."   
"Take mine."   
"B-but-"   
Alex held out the sword strap he had wanted to put on and nodded. "Or do you want my bow?" It was leaning in a corner; Alex was training with it, but didn't use it, Sev had already wondered why he had taken it with him in the first place, but now he thanked... well, whatever gods for it.   
"Thanks." He wrapped the sword belt around his hips and lifted Alex's shield, then they stepped outside together.

Not far away they met Christian and Robin Blackwood with his young cousin.   
"Where are the others?" Alex immediately wanted to know.   
"My uncle is already with our men," Robin replied seriously while Christian shrugged.   
"Matt and his wife ran directly towards the fights earlier," Sev said quietly and Alex hissed:   
"Oh damn it! We should stay together."   
"So they can get the most valuable people in this army all at once?" Christian asked gloomily and Sev noticed that Robin's cousin didn't seem too happy to be here. He was visibly frightened.   
"The only valuable thing about you is your functioning sword arm," Alex returned dryly.   
"Women see it differently."  
Robin grinned reservedly and Sev tried not to grin too obviously because Alex was in a bad mood.   
"Oh, yeah, put some more bastards in the world yourself! That's just what we actually needed."   
"At least _I_ use my dick."   
"Maybe the Empire will be deterred by it," the boy interjected, trying to be funny.   
Alex snorted. "Well, you can't fight if you're lying on the ground laughing."   
"That's enough now, kiddo," Christian hissed and Sev was ready to step in between, but then Ariel's voice sounded:   
"Matt, that's enough."   
"There are only seven."   
"Seven is enough, we need you conscious."   
"I can handle more than seven at once. Eight."   
"I know what you look like when you overdo it. There are too many."   
"I've got nine now and I'm still talking straight to you, so stop complaining."   
"I've heard that kind of talk before," Christian said with raised eyebrows as the Hazels came closer. "Among whores, though."   
Matt made a face and Robin asked:   
"What exactly are you counting?"   
"His puppets," Ariel said angrily.   
"Twelve," said Matt triumphantly and Ariel sighed.   
"We have built a defense line of magic. Works better than we thought."   
"Thirteen." Now he sounded strained.   
"Stop it!"   
"I don't want to know," mumbled Christian, and Sev also didn't want to imagine what a combination of the two magics looked like.   
"Has anyone seen Arik and Nicholas?" Alex asked. Even the slowest knight should have been fully equipped by now, and the tent the two princes shared was not far away- one should have seen each other.   
"I can see Nicholas," Matt exclaimed strained and suddenly clawed at Robin to avoid falling over. "He's at the lazaret."   
"Okay, now you're getting _really_ creepy," Christian remarked quietly and Alex asked again:   
"What about Arik?"   
Matt made a negative sound and Sev shivered. Directing dead bodies was a thing that was horrible enough in itself, but to look through their eyes? To be so detached from them that he could just casually control a dozen of them? Sev was glad to know the Necromancer was on his side.   
"Christian, call off the Green Sleeves. Sev, you stay with me."   
The others apparently only now noticed that he was standing there in armor, because he got a few wry looks.   
"Ariel, don't overdo it."   
"You are telling _me_ of all people?"   
"Now get on with it! Sev, come on, let's go find Nicholas. The boy should be lying in the lazaret himself, not fighting."   
"Okay," Sev said simply, and ran after Alex.

The chaos in the camp seemed to have a certain order, albeit a distinctly different one than in his own army, Sev thought. Voices calling out orders merged with the clanging and crunching of armor, the general shouting, the barely perceptible crackling of magic and the sound of endless boot steps. And then Nicholas' voice cut through the wall of noise as they almost reached the lazaret.   
"Stop them! Support the puppets! Let them no further into the camp!"   
"Shit!"   
A few steps further on, they encountered the first legionaries who had broken through the defense at the vulnerable infirmary, of all places.   
Alex drew an arrow and Sev the sword.   
"Please don't shoot me," he asked, grinning crookedly, knowing full well that Alex was a pretty good archer.   
"Don't betray me," Alex returned. He did not grin.   
Sev nodded barely noticeably and then they jumped into the fight.

"Nicholas! Nicholas, are you okay?" Alex wanted to know and grabbed his friend by the shoulder.   
Nicholas didn't really look okay and when he raised his hand from his thigh, blood was sticking to it. "I'm okay," he gasped. "Really."   
Sev frowned, but said nothing.   
"Have you seen Arik?" Alex kept asking and Nicholas shook his head, breathing heavily.   
"We were supposed to meet here," he choked out.  
"Withdraw," Alex said and Nicholas promptly shook his head.   
"This is about my crown!"   
"The crown will do you no good if you bleed to death in the field."   
"Find a healer," Sev interjected quietly, for the heavily decimated healers had received orders to give priority to the princes.   
Nicholas gave a strange gasp. "Find Arik and-" With a groan he broke off.  
"If you _die_ here, I will pray at your wake that you-"   
"Love you too." Nicholas patted Alex on the shoulder and limped away.   
Sev took a deep breath. "Do we look for Arik?"   
Alex nodded. "Nicholas' wounded pride we won't find in the dark anyway." A grim smile flitted across his face. "Is it fun to slaughter your own men?"   
"No. But it wasn't fun killing _your_ men before either," Sev returned dryly and watched with relief as Alex smiled again briefly.   
"Well then..."

It didn't take long and Sev lost orientation. He and the dark had never really been friends and he tried not to lose sight of Alex. Devon's armor was uncomfortable, the smaller and lighter shield unfamiliar, but he didn't complain. Alex had got himself some new arrows and a sword at some point and put it away when they were alone for a moment - not counting five dead legionaries.   
"Okay," Alex said slowly and swallowed hard, "this is going worse than I had hoped."   
"At least we were warned," Sev returned and Alex nodded thoughtfully. Sev was hungry because his lunch had been interrupted in favor of an arriving supply group and dinner... well, probably it was time to eat right now.   
With a sigh, Alex took off his helmet and adjusted the padded hood; some blood splatter was sticking under his eye and Sev took the sword a little awkwardly in his shield hand, reached out to wipe away the blood and then stopped just inches away from Alex's face because he frowned. However, he looked past Sev and slowly Sev turned around. With a strange sighing sound, a tent collapsed, revealing two legionaries who were now rushing forward after being exposed.   
With the first one, Sev crossed the blade, the blow of the second he blocked with his shield. When he struck again, the second legionary gurgled and collapsed with an arrow in his neck, his comrade followed two sword strikes later. While Sev turned again to Alex, who hurriedly adjusted his helmet, it suddenly sounded:   
"Severio! Prince Severio!" That sounded like Tullius and he couldn't have been far away.   
"Who is that?" Alex asked, and they started moving, slowly away from the voice.   
"I guess my general wants me back alive."   
"Sev! Severio! Sev, where are you?"   
"Who is _that_?"  
"Well, my bodyguard probably wants me back alive, too." Flavius almost sounded desperate, and that hurt.   
"Sev!" Sev corrected himself, because it was Cyril's exclamation that sounded _really_ desperate. "Sev!"   
"And who is _that_?"   
"Let's just assume that the entire imperial army wants me back alive," Sev replied more bitingly than he actually wanted. Cyril had no business here, not at all, and that worried him. Cyril wasn't a fighter, but a pleasure slave, and had absolutely no place in a surprise attack.   
Alex put an arrow to the string and Sev grabbed the sword tighter as they entered a small free space with a fireplace in the middle. Probably an evening gathering place for the common soldiers. From the other side, a soldier and a wizard stumbled in, supporting each other and obviously happy to see allies.   
"Behind us...", one of the two gasped, and then a number of legionnaires plunged into the faint glow of the magical spark which the wizard maintained with great effort.   
The first was Flavius and Sev hesitated, then finally took two quick steps, lifted the shield - Flavius didn't recognize him - and stumbled surprised, because on the one hand Cyril appeared behind one of the men and on the other hand Flavius suddenly made a chopped off sound. At close range, Alex's arrow had effortlessly penetrated the armor.   
The sight paralyzed Sev for a moment, long enough for another soldier to strike after him and fortunately missing.   
Alex gave an angry battle cry that drew attention to himself and tore Sev out of his surprise.   
As he fought, he saw out of the corner of his eye how Cyril hesitated. The unpleasant question of what to do with Cyril was taking shape in his mind as the legionnaire in front of him collapsed; the last remaining one was taken care of by Alex.   
"Cyril, drop the sword!" Sev shouted, and Cyril's eyes grew big in amazement.   
"Sev?!" They took a step towards each other and then the blow of an invisible fist pushed Cyril back. With a deep dent in his breastplate, he sank to his knees with a wheezing sound and Sev threw a bewildered look back. The wizard also groaned and his spark of light went out - his last act in this war.   
Cyril coughed and choked and Sev hurried towards him, putting the sword away with an angry gesture and pushing the shield from his arm.   
"Cyril!"   
There was blood on his lips, probably the magic blow had broken several ribs piercing his lungs.   
Sev knelt down beside him and Cyril looked up.   
"Sev..."   
"What are you doing here? You have no business here, you can't fight!"   
A kind of smile distorted Cyril's features and Sev pulled him close. "I was so afraid for you...", the elf bastard whispered and Sev shook his head.   
"I'm fine," he said, choking.   
"They force you... to fight..."   
"That's okay, they treat me fine." Cyril didn't believe him, of course not, so Sev caressed his pale face. A faint glow of fire came from somewhere and the blood that ran from Cyril's mouth after another weak cough appeared black.   
"The Red Legion is coming, Sev," he said, barely audible. "Tullius would not... you..." Cyril's eyelids fluttered and Sev, who - had he still been an imperial prince - would have been happy about the Red Legion, but now got a stomachache, whispered:   
"Cyril, you did great."   
The hint of a smile plucked at the corners of Cyril's mouth. "I lo..." The word died in a breeze on his lips and the light of his eyes went out.   
"No..." Sev whispered. "No! Not like that! Not like _that_ , gods, what has he done to you?" He blinked back the tears and tried to breathe despite his throat being closed. Cyril didn't deserve such an end.   
"Seeev..." Alex sounded worried, admonishing. "Sev, get up. We have to get out of here."   
Sev sniffed and gently pushed Cyril away, closed his dead eyes, and if he hadn't been wearing rigid armor, he would have kissed him on the forehead.   
"Sev!"   
He sniffed again and came to his feet, wanted to grab the shield- and paused.   
"Prince Severio!" One of Arco’s officers with a torch instead of a shield stared at him in amazement. Behind the man, whose name he failed to recall, stood at least a dozen legionaries, bloodied, singed, and determined to find their prince.   
The moment of surprised stare shattered when Alex jumped forward, grabbed Sev by the collar and pulled back. Sev only understood what he was about to do when he felt the blade of a dagger at his throat.   
"Stay back!" Alex shouted, but the officer and two other men stepped forward. "Stay back!"   
"They don't understand you."   
"Then translate, damn it!"   
"Stay back," he shouted in his native language. "He stabs if- gnh!"   
Alex pressed the blade harder against his throat and he felt a drop of blood running down it as he stumbled more in Alex's grip than he walked.   
"Are you really going to stab me?" he whispered.   
"You only asked earlier not to get shot," Alex returned concentrated, but the pressure of the blade eased.   
"My mistake."   
"Hindsight is the first step to improvement."   
Sev's answer was a cry of pain because he stumbled and the dagger cut into his skin. Tense, he watched as the officer passed the torch and then pulled a horn from his belt, nodding clearly at Sev.   
"What is the message?" Alex hissed tense at Sev's ear.   
"I... I don't know."  
"You don't know your own signals?"   
"This is not one of the usual ones!"   
Alex snorted and dragged him along while Sev tried to remember.   
"Commander in danger," he finally said.   
"Excuse me?"   
He blinked irritated before he realized that he had given the command in the wrong language. "Commander in danger," he repeated. "Orderly retreat."

~

Matt knew Nicholas was talking, he wasn't standing very far away, but the crackle of the flames was too loud and the buzz of the spirits surrounded Matt. Nicholas gave a funeral eulogy, but basically Matt did the same. But while Nicholas talked about Arik and the other fallen men and women, Matt sent their spirits to their final rest.   
Tears ran down his cheeks as the spirits appeared before him, saluting, nodding, smiling, crying... he nodded back in greeting, forcing a new smile on his face over and over again. There were so many - so many! - that it couldn't just be the fallen of this battle, but Matt didn't know the faces, which after a while faded into each other and formed a silvery white mist.   
The soft voice in his head whispered that in former times, long ago, this would have been the task of the necromancers: to wander through the kingdoms as priests of the dead and send the spirits to rest.   
But Matt wasn't really listening. He was almost startled when the figure in front of him burst into sparks, and a kind of hunch crept up on him that Nicholas' eulogy had attracted the spirits. Now he was mute and the spirits withdrew.   
Perhaps, Matt thought, they should include funeral eulogies in future cremation ceremonies so that the spirits in those places would not trample each other's feet at some point.

With some effort he forced himself to relax his clenched fists. Ariel was somewhere with her magical colleagues and so he stood alone. A quick glance revealed that this was obviously the case for many. A lot of people were standing around the fire, but most of them so far apart that everyone was by himself.   
Behind Alex were General Whiteriver and a handful of the most important officers; Robin, his uncle and his cousin stood together; Christian had put an arm around the waist of the heavily bandaged Ari. The green sleeves had bought the army the time to get ready and to begin to form up, but they had paid dearly for it.   
Matt averted his gaze, but still saw Ari nestle into Christian's arms, shaken by sobs. He didn't want to know how many friends she had lost, he really didn't. The loss of Devon and Arik was painful enough, and he had hardly known even them. He was glad they weren't his people who died here, hard as that may sound.   
He wiped his sleeve over his cheeks and raised his eyes, watched the flames dissolve into trails of smoke further up and then fade away, saw the stars shine down on them and got goose bumps.   
_"I wonder how many deaths they have seen,"_ whispered the soft voice, but he pushed it aside. He didn't want that voice, although it was silent most of the time - as a reward for that thought it stabbed painfully in his chest.

Again he let his eyes wander over the crowd and this time he got stuck on Alex. His whole posture was tense, as if he wanted to hit something. Not really surprising, if one looked at the devastated camp next to all the dead. But the strange, almost bitter pull around his mouth twitched every time he looked over to Christian and Ari. Was he jealous? Envious? And if so, to what degree? Matt had no idea if the two were a couple, but if so-   
Quiet singing interrupted his thoughts. Sev had stepped closer to the fire, chin up in the air, and sang- according to the melody and intonation, a lament. He swayed a little and it took Matt a moment to realize that he was singing in his native language. Tears glistened in the glow of the fire on his cheeks and then he spread his arms, maybe for a special part. Matt couldn't take his eyes off the scene and new tears rolled down his face as Sev translated the last verse, the last chorus.   
_"Sing, for all the people that you've lost, for all the friends you used to trust, for all the dreams you left behind."_ He repeated the translation again, a little better adapted to the melody, and Matt pressed a hand on his mouth when a sob escaped.   
Grief was the same everywhere.

~

Alex stared into the darkness of the tent ceiling.   
Owen snored softly and Will threw himself restlessly back and forth after crying himself to sleep.   
Alex was tired, exhausted, but when he closed his eyes, he saw images of the day flashing up which would haunt him for a long time.   
A dead Arik, surrounded by dead legionaries.   
A crying Nicholas.   
Ariel raging with grief.   
Sev, who cried over the body of his friend after the Imperial Army withdrew.   
Ari, who collapsed in Christian's arms.   
Will whimpered in his sleep and Alex turned around, curled up and then flinched when suddenly a light shone.   
"Ari," he whispered and sat up. The rogue appeared and the hint of a smile lay on her bruised face.   
"Hello, Alex. Can't sleep either?"   
"You're injured, you should rest."   
"I know." She sat down carefully, her face twitching in pain. "But I thought I'd check on you."   
"That's nice of you." Alex nodded. "Still, you should get some rest. You're wounded." Her bandages proved it all too clearly. Still she shook her head slightly.   
For a moment they looked at each other in silence, then she lowered her gaze and licked her lips.   
"Do you have someone to catch you?"   
Since he could think of no answer, she looked at him again.  
"When you break down, you need someone to catch you. Do you have someone like that?"   
He knew what she meant, but he still didn't have an answer. He hadn't been able to find the right words, so Nicholas had given the funeral eulogy. But he hadn't been able to find the right words in private either before or afterwards. He had neither been able to comfort Nicholas nor Ariel. With Sev, he hadn't even tried, even though his grief had hurt solely by watching.   
"Apparently not," Ari said quietly and he looked at her only briefly before he averted his gaze and covered Will properly because he was finally lying still.   
"Talk to me," she asked him and put one hand on his forearm. "Alex..."   
"What should I say?" he asked and was surprised by the bitter undertone himself.   
"How are you?"   
"Lousy." He looked up and immediately looked away again; her icy eyes pierced his innermost being. "Lousy," he repeated, "and lonely."   
Her hand slipped from his arm to his hand, holding him gently.   
"I never wanted this. To lead an army, I mean. As a squire, I had friends, and now... they are only _present_."   
"You're no longer a squire, but Crown Prince and Commander," she said softly. "Might makes you lonely."   
He nodded silently. A stupid phrase, but painfully true.   
"Do you trust your friends?" she then wanted to know.   
"Are they still my friends at all?", he asked back.   
"That was not the question. Do you trust them?"   
"Yes."   
"Then think of them as bodyguards, not as friends. It's not good to hold on to friendships which no longer exist." She sounded as if she was speaking from painful experience, reminding him that she was a good deal older than him.   
"Do you think the really powerful can have friends at all?" he asked quietly and she raised her eyebrows in surprise.   
"I think so," she replied after a moment of reflection. "But probably not many. It's perhaps those special friendships that don't care about anything."   
"Like different ranks and all that?"   
She nodded and he thought of Christian and her. A wave of envy made him pull back his hand.

Again they were silent for a while and then she remarked with a questioning undertone:   
"You allowed Sev to fight."   
"Hmm. He is a good fighter. Fast and agile, even in our heavier armor." Now that he said it, he realized that he had noticed it at all.   
Ari smiled. "So you're not mad at him anymore?"   
"Yes I am," he said immediately. "If he hadn't kept something so important from us..." The sentence didn't need an end.   
"So you're still mad at him, okay. But you still went off on your own with him and even went looking for him earlier."   
"Just because I'm mad at him doesn't mean that... that... If... If he wasn't on the wrong side, he'd be a good guy. He could have been a good friend." Alex actually regretted that he wasn't. She laughed softly and pulled a face when it must have hurt somewhere.   
"He's on the wrong side? Is at your side the wrong side then?"   
"He's not at my side." Angry, he made a face, it almost sounded as if she was talking about a lovers' couple.   
"Well, okay, then he's _not_ at your side. But what's stopping you from being friends with him anyway?"   
"He is a traitor. A prince of those conquering assholes."   
"A prince. A commander. Trained to lead and rule. Does that ring a bell?" Ari tilted her head a little and Alex blinked at her confused.   
"What are you getting at?"   
"I think Sev is a lot like you," she said slowly and carefully. "I will not repeat what Christian said, but why don't you give him a chance?"   
"He got his chance. He's still alive."   
"I don't mean that you give him a second chance in your role as leader, but as a friend."   
"But I _am_ a leader. If Samson dies, I'll be king - and I'm supposed to make friends with a traitor? He might as well betray _us_. He knows things now." He paused. "I can't step out of my role as leader, Ari. I can't lose a silly dagger fight like Christian or make friends with the wrong people, I can't-"   
"I know," she interrupted him gently. "Did you hear the song Sev was singing?"   
A little irritated by the change of subject he nodded.   
"He's left everything behind and is a good deal lonelier than you."   
"Maybe so, but he surrendered to us voluntarily. There are enough voices that say he's just gathering information here." The thought, the possibility, it hurt.   
"Yeah, it's a possibility. But I don't believe in it." She shook her head faintly, but as he tried to go after it, Will whimpered in another nightmare. A little distracted, Alex turned back to Ari, who slowly straightened up. She squatted there like a cat just before the jump.   
"If you can spare five minutes, you should think about what status Sev has now," she said seriously. "It already made enough men restless when he was allowed to take off the chains. Your esteemed brother-in-law will protect him, but it's not a permanent solution." To her last words she nodded and then disappeared before Alex could say anything.   
For a moment he stared in the darkness at the spot where she had been a second ago and then curled up again under the blanket. Sev's singing echoed in his head.   
_"Sing, for all the people that you've lost, for all the friends you used to trust, for all the dreams you left behind."_   
He didn't really believe what Sev had said about the vision and the dream. That _this_ should have been his motivation. He just couldn't believe it. Anyone who was so God-fearing that he took such things seriously didn't just leave those Gods. Sev could have had everything, a godlike ruler in a new, second empire.   
_"Sev is a lot like you."_   
Alex snorted faintly and buried his face in his crook of his arm. Such nonsense.

But then the question what he would do in such a situation crept into the back of his mind. Just leave everything behind, discard all responsibility...   
He snorted again, but this time it was half a sob. Sev had run away like a coward and Alex was none. He faced his responsibility, every day anew. He would decide how to go on. Tomorrow. In a few hours.   
He thought of General Whiteriver's grandfatherly smile, which made him feel like a little boy every time, and sobbed again. Little boys could run away, but no man. No crown prince. No leader. He would not run away.   
The sobbing turned into crying and weakly he was aware of how childish and selfish he was right now. He was not crying for the dead, but for himself.   
For the dreams of a simple life as a simple knight in the king's army which had burst like a soap bubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sev is singing the chorus of "Sing" by Blutengel. I'm the type of person who gets inspired by music a lot and this song gave me "the mood" for Cyril's fate.


	16. Growing Tension

He froze bitterly. The cold paralyzed him, crawled with icy fingers into his collar, up his trouser legs and into his mouth. Trembling, he wrapped his arms around himself and bit his lip, which trembled with cold, so as not to whimper. He stood in the middle of a field full of corpses, soldiers of both armies were covered with rime as thick as a finger. Slowly he looked around, but no matter in which direction - the carpet of dead stretched as far as he could see. Uncertain, he took a step and gasped in horror as he stepped on a hand and a frozen finger broke off. He swallowed hard and put his foot in another place - but again he stepped on something.   
This could not be. It wasn't right, wasn't real, but when he tried to take another step, he put his weight on the chest of a knight - although there had been nothing there but frozen mud a moment ago.   
"Oh, Great Mother, please no..." His words formed a black cloud which hung in the air for a moment and then sank to the ground as black snow. Something lit up on the horizon and slowly he set himself in motion- stepping on corpses, climbing over them and desperately begging for forgiveness at every step, like a tightrope walker spreading his arms so as not to lose his balance.

After an eternity, close to breaking into tears, he reached the glow. It turned out to be a knight whose armor shimmered as if it reflected the sun - which, after all, was nowhere to be seen. He had the shield on his arm, the sword in his hand and tapped with the tip against his armored boots- the resulting sound rang hollow and dead. And then the knight half turned to him and he couldn't decide which was worse. The magic green glow from the helmet or the shield, whose effigy was completely covered with steaming blood. Well, in the end, neither was as bad as the voice whispering out of the helmet- the voice from within his head.   
"Whose deathblow will come first: yours or mine?"   
He sucked in the air hissing, but the knight shook his head.   
"You know I am right. The battlefield will be our deathbed. It is our destiny."   
He wanted to ask who the knight was, but he turned away, tapped again with the tip of his sword in agonizing slowness against his armor.   
And then the cold came back, tickled him, dragged him to the ground and paralyzed him until he lay on the frozen ground like one of the corpses. The soft clang of sword against armor did not falter once, not even when he made one last quiet sound.

~

Alex paused unintentionally when he saw the multitude of men crowding under the cover. They were waiting for him, waiting for his orders.   
"Alex..." Sev began to fiddle with his armor completely unnecessarily.   
"Hmm?"   
"Do you know who all these men are? What their rank and responsibilities are?" He spoke quietly, but thanks to the hissing wind, which was constantly carrying ashes and dirt around, the men would certainly not hear him.   
"No," Alex admitted frankly.   
"Then send them away. If your command staff works like mine, a dozen men is more than enough. The others don't know enough to be useful, but are usually the first to criticize you."   
With a raised brow, Alex looked at Sev, who tapped him on the shoulder piece to confirm.   
"Please forgive me if I offended you with my unsolicited advice." He indicated a bow and retreated; Alex blinked in surprise. _Sev is a lot like you._   
He took a deep breath and walked towards the cover, became part of the group around the shaky card table and thus shielded from the wind, which tugged at his braids and tried to find a way under his armor. Without a greeting, he let his gaze wander over the men and confessed to himself again that he didn't know most of them. He nodded to one of them.   
"May I ask who you are?"   
"I-I, your Highness?"   
"Yes."   
"O-oh, well..." The man stammered an intimidated answer and Alex turned to a second and third, all of whom, according to their no less uncertain answers, would be better off elsewhere.   
"After the events of yesterday, I would like to remind everyone here of their primary duties," Alex finally said seriously, forcing himself to look again at the men who had no business being here. "And everyone who finds a superior here should now devote themselves to these duties." He almost expected a good-natured joke from General Whiteriver that he could also withdraw- after all, Alex was the highest authority here - but the General only nodded minimally.   
Nevertheless, two minutes later a much more manageable number of men was left. In addition there was Ari, as representative of the Green Sleeves, a sorceress named Aphra, as well as Christian, Will and Nicholas.   
"Where is Prince Robin?", Alex wanted to know and Christian said clearly audible:   
"Has held a wake all night with his men. Prince Calvin actually wanted-" At that moment, Robin's uncle Calvin joined in, his tired face smeared with ashes.   
"I apologize for my tardiness," he said, nodding to Alex. "My nephew is unfortunately not in good shape."   
Alex nodded back. "This will not take long." He hadn't slept much that night himself, after his childish crying fit had ended. Now in daylight he was even more ashamed of it than he had been at night. Especially because running away was exactly what he had in mind.   
The general nodded at him with encouragement and he straightened his shoulders.   
"We're retreating." Relief almost softened his knees when he saw in the faces of the much more experienced men that this was the right order.   
"Um, my prince, may I ask where to?" The speaker was John Hall, first supply officer, and probably rightly nervous, but the question was justified.   
"Northwest."   
"Why Northwest?", Nicholas asked perplexed. He shouldn't have been here, Alex was aware of it, but Nicholas' body had been healed- and for the young king that was enough, while Alex knew his friend well enough to know that what happened would probably break him soon. Nicholas was simply not made for these matters.   
"Why Northwest? Because we need wood, quite simply, and from our current position the best option is the northwest. We have wet plains in the south and southwest, we can reach the border of Darkmoore and the foothills of the Chalk Plain too quickly in the north, and well... the east is out." Alex didn't say that he didn't want to move directly to the west, just because this would bring them a little bit closer to Darkmoore, a little bit closer to Threehills. He had a tiny bit of hope that Robin could get his grandmother to intervene. Had a tiny bit of hope that Joshua would kill himself in his madness and Matt would somehow manage to organize troops from a distance. He was afraid of losing the war, dying here, and leaving the country to a completely overwhelmed Nathalie after Samson's death. He was afraid of making the wrong decisions, but not making _any_ decision was not an option either.   
"I know we won't get far today, but we can't stay here either."   
Several heads nodded with grim approval.   
"Today and maybe tomorrow there will only be an emergency camp before we put up the tents again." It was cold and windy, but it didn't freeze yet, nevertheless this decision didn't appeal to him. "I want a combat-ready unit dedicated solely to protecting our retreat."   
Again there was a nod. He looked at Hall.   
"I know you are not responsible for this, but you know who is. I want the camp to be formed differently. And in such a way that the vulnerable elements are better protected. The exact formation should be based on the possible position of the enemy."   
Hall nodded hastily. "Of course, my prince." They didn't need a second catastrophe like at the lazaret, they all knew that.   
Alex looked at Ari, who immediately raised her chin. "Your people should dedicate themselves to spying. Primarily for our protection. Coordinate with the scouts." He was not willing to let the rogues run amok among the enemies at night, although the option was tempting. But such actions were in a gray zone of wartime law and he... didn't want to touch that.   
She nodded seriously. "Of course."   
He nodded thoughtfully and looked at everyone, saw approval and confirmation in the serious and tired faces. "General."   
"Dismissed," Whiteriver barked, and hurriedly everyone saluted.

Alex hadn't gotten very far when the shouts already echoed through the camp.   
"Thank you," Will murmured softly as they walked back to the tent.   
"For what?"  
"For getting us away from this burial ground."   
Alex huffed because he couldn't think of a meaningful answer and nodded at Owen, who held the tent flap open for him. Inside, Alex sighed quietly.   
"Guys..."   
"Hmm?" Owen turned around, but Alex looked past him.   
"When we put the tent back up, Sev will sleep here with us."   
Owen made a surprised sound and Will made a kind of grumpy grunt.  
"Okay," Owen finally said and shrugged, Alex saw in his eyes what he also saw in his officers': respect for the leader. He hated it.   
"He doesn't deserve it," Will said quietly, strangely bitter, and before Alex could say anything, he added: "He can't replace Devon."   
Oh.   
"Of course he can't replace Devon-" Owen started and Alex shook his head.   
"He cannot and will not. But..." He had been aware that there would be a protest. A lot of things had gone through his mind that night, including the possibility that they would lose to the Empire. That after Samson's death he ended up as Royal Governor because he survived the war. And that he was judged by how he had treated the captured prince. But talking to his friends about _losing_ was out of the question.   
"He saved my life." It was neither the truth, nor a real lie - they had fought side by side, and it was normal to cover for each other. Owen seemed to accept it, Will pressed his lips together and Alex was ashamed. Because he felt he was betraying his friends. Because he couldn't manage to tell the truth. Because he felt so incredibly stupid. Because Ari was probably right. Because he was sure that Sev would show him much more respect if the situation was reversed. Because he had relied on the thoroughly trained fighter next to him. Because he had felt that Sev trusted him.   
"As you wish," Will said quietly and turned to his things. "But don't complain when he stabs you in your sleep."   
"He won't."   
"And what makes you so sure of that?" Will turned back to Alex and he realized that Ari _really_ was right. Seven years of friendship crumbled before his eyes. "A few days ago you wanted to execute him because he put your sister in danger, and now"- a mixture of disbelief, anger and indignation crept into Will's voice- "now you want him to crawl under your blanket?"   
"Uh," Owen made quietly, and Alex was speechless for a moment. He hadn't expected such a sinful insult from Will.   
"This is probably one of the many aspects where he can come up with better advice than you," he finally said struggling to stay calm.   
Will first turned pale, then red, then stormed out.   
Alex's shoulders slumped down and he bit his lip hard.   
"He's worried about you," Owen said softly and Alex looked at him doubtfully. "We're all worried about you. You're not yourself right now."   
Totally humorless, Alex laughed. "Does that surprise you?"   
"No, not really. Honestly, I don't want to be in your shoes." Owen shook his head weakly. He actually seemed disturbed and that was painful to watch. "I don't know if it's right to trust Sev like this..."   
"I don't know either," Alex quietly admitted.   
Owen chewed on his lip.   
"What is it?"   
"I don't know. Alex, I'm sorry, but I can't offer you anything more than a strange feeling. I don't think he's gonna kill you, I really don't, but... I don't know. Sometimes there's something in his eyes that scares me." For a moment it seemed as if Owen wanted to say more, but then he closed his mouth and Alex nodded thoughtfully.   
"I trust you, Alex. But please don't do anything stupid anyway," Owen finally said even more quietly than before, and Alex had to smile.   
"I'll do my best."

~

Matt helped a tired looking sorceress onto the cart, then another, and another... and flinched when one of them kissed him on the cheek. From the cart came giggles.   
"Ariel!"   
She giggled, too. "Your mind must be somewhere else."   
"A little, yes," he admitted and helped her up, too. Her narrow face smiled down at him.   
"Do you ever stop thinking?"   
"Now and then." Now he smiled back. There were actually a few things that could silence his thoughts completely, but that didn't belong in public- Ariel knew that and winked at him. But his smile faded as soon as she turned away. The twin magic took its toll, the exhausting march in the steadily worsening weather took its toll, the worries took their toll... The worries he was having included the fear that, despite all her magic and self-healing abilities, she was not up to the task of getting pregnant. He was afraid of losing her- no matter what the enemy- and that dampened his passion because it was nicer to hold her in his arms and consciously appreciate what he had. The others could joke as they wanted- he and Ariel joked too- but their tent was not half as filled with arousal as everyone thought.

Calls tore him out of his thoughts and he noticed that he had unconsciously got on the horse. Halfway he turned around and saw to his surprise that Stan and Theresa were approaching hand in hand. The otherwise stoic, dry-humored Stan, who often seemed terribly bored, suddenly showed tender affection while helping Theresa onto the cart and then saluting the sorceresses. New shouts rang out and then the cart started to move.   
Matt sighed and rode along beside it, deliberately keeping his expression neutral and wondering how long it would go on like this. For two weeks- or three weeks already?- the army had been moving agonizingly slowly northwest. None of the tent camps lasted longer than two nights, there were constant minor skirmishes, no one really came to rest. And then there were the rumors that the Empire was getting reinforcements again, this time from an elite legion. Matt had hardly seen Sev or Alex, so there was no real opportunity to ask them about it, but these stories had to come from somewhere.

He listened to the quiet conversations of the women, felt the buzz of magic around him as they all tried to chase away the cold with shields, and suddenly shivered himself. He was able to keep warm by now, it wasn't like that, but in exchange his nightmares were almost all filled with deadly cold. With grave cold and a soft whispering voice. This soft whispering voice also worried him, just like the stabbing pain in his chest. He hadn't told Ariel about the voice because she was already uncomfortable enough with the magical splinter that was supposedly inside him.

"Matt?"   
"Hmm?" He turned his head to her.   
"You should take a sleeping potion tonight. You need it."   
He shook his head. "I can't. You know I can't."   
She sighed. "If you faint from exhaustion, it won't help anyone."   
"I know that." It was a shitty situation. At first, almost everyone had been willing to call him a monster like Alex did and burn him at the stake, but now they were counting on his special abilities. His dead puppets saved others from death, he knew that, but he was increasingly disgusted by them, because it seemed as if his power was growing with every day. He didn't want that.   
"Matt..."   
He looked up again and into Ariel's worried face. "I'll think about it," he said and gave her a smile. A night of dreamless sleep... sounded downright forbidden good.

~

Sev nodded at the birdmaster and turned halfway around as he walked backwards - only to almost stumble into Nicholas, who was holding a letter with a strange expression on his face.   
"Your Highness?" the birdmaster asked humbly before Nicholas had time to snarl at Sev.   
"Swanford."   
"Without seal?" The bird master sounded surprised.   
"I lost my family seal when I escaped," Nicholas returned in annoyance. The look of the birdmaster made it clear that without the seal, the message was unlikely to reach the addressee written on it.   
"Who are you writing to?" Sev asked politely-interested and Nicholas snapped:  
"It's none of your business."   
But Sev had already deciphered it, because the bird master turned the message undecidedly between his fingers. "Without a seal, no one there will take you seriously," he said, for the letter was addressed to the imperial occupiers.   
"And what do you suggest I do?" Nicholas hissed angrily. "I have nothing now, absolutely _nothing_ , you bastard, except my life. Do you seriously think I'm going to march up to your people and surrender so that they can hang me, send my body to Swanford and use my nephew as a puppet?"   
"They'll just laugh at a seal-less letter," Sev calmly returned, then nodded to Matt, who entered the wind-protected hut, followed by Alex. Both held letters in their hands.   
"What is it about?" Matt wanted to know and handed his letters to the bird master.   
"Nicholas wants to send a letter to the occupying forces," said Sev, while Nicholas snorted.   
"Without a seal?", Alex asked doubtingly and passed his letters on as well. Again, Nicholas made a frustrated sound.   
"What should I do, then? Do nothing?"   
Matt sighed and Alex said:   
"I would lend you my voice, but unfortunately I am already at war."   
"Not Threehills," Matt added and Sev realized that the two of them must have discussed the problem already. Nicholas probably understood it too.   
"Would you, on my behalf...?"   
Matt nodded. "I only have my family seal and not the country's, but I don't think it means much to the Empire anyway."   
At his slightly questioning look Sev shook his head.   
"Then we'll compose a message together later."   
"Thank you." Nicholas' anger was gone and replaced with relief.   
"You should think about who to marry," Alex said thoughtfully.   
" _You_ of all people would say that?", Matt asked astounded. Embarrassed, Alex shrugged.   
"After all, Whitehill has an engaged princess at home next to me."   
"Don't tell me. With whom?", Nicholas wanted to know curiously and Alex sighed.   
"A house from the Northeast. Redblossom? No... Wait..."   
"The boy in purple and beige from your father's party?" Matt asked carefully and Alex nodded.   
"Yes. Purpleroot."   
Puzzled, Sev saw Nicholas giggling and Matt also grinning. "Will someone explain the joke to me?" he asked slowly and Alex sighed.   
"The boy can't help his name."   
"No," Matt admitted. "Purpleroot is a vegetable, Sev, a... well, purple root, as the name suggests. Tasty and nutritious, but... you have to poop a lot. It's considered an insult to serve it to guests at dinner."   
"Oh," Sev made surprised, although, in his opinion, that did not fully explain the joke, because Nicholas grinned much too broadly for that.   
"But squires are also called Purpleroot, when they seem to have a boner all the time. Because the roots are roughly similar in shape," Nicholas said, trying to control his grin, which turned it into a grimace. Now Sev was smiling, too.   
"I don't know any vegetables like that, but we call such guys... um..."- he was looking for a suitable translation-"owl stand."   
"Why owls?" Matt was curious to know and Sev grinned crookedly.   
"Our goddess of wisdom can shift into an owl and is known to be a virgin. They say these men try to lure her."   
Matt and Nicholas giggled, Alex rolled his eyes.   
"Probably not to gain wisdom," he muttered.   
"You know the saying: a virgin is something very nice, provided she doesn't remain one." Nicholas winked at him, and indeed Alex blushed a little. Sev had already noticed that he took this topic quite seriously and it wasn't the first time he wondered how to approach the problem of his feelings, but Matt asked:   
"What about you? If you're going to be king, you'll need a bride, too."   
Alex growled. "Stop it. I'll think about that when the war is over."   
"You could Gudrun-"   
"Don't you dare!"   
Matt smiled crooked. "You're entitled to-"   
"I said forget it, you stupid diplomat."   
Nicholas smiled. "Do you really want to do this to him?"   
Matt shrugged. "A politically useful move. On a personal level... well, I wouldn't want that either."   
"Then why do you suggest it?"   
Somehow they set themselves in motion and Sev asked, deliberately provoking:   
"What do you think about a harem?"   
"A... _what_?" Alex seemed horrified, Matt amused, Nicholas enthusiastic - the mixture amused Sev a little.  
"No? Nice picks, not limited to just _one_ political alliance..."   
"How do you manage to please them all?" Matt wanted to know, pulling a magic shield around them all to keep the cold wind away.   
"Not at all," Sev admitted. "But that's not the point."   
"The Empire seems to be a bit misogynistic to me," Alex pointedly remarked - it actually surprised Sev every time how many men reacted outraged by this. He shrugged.   
"And you are a prude."   
Matt and Nicholas denied an answer and not even Alex protested - probably because he knew that Sev was right.

~

Alex left the tent and sucked in the cold air. Indefinite fear - the remnants of a nightmare - made him shudder and wince as a flapping sounded. But it was just the flap of Christian's tent and Alex already had half a greeting on his lips when Ari stepped outside. Not the person Alex had expected so early in the morning, even before the official wake-up call. He blinked in surprise, unable to return her nodded greeting, and then strange heat rose in him as Christian also stepped into the cold morning air and gave Alex a strange grin.   
"So much for pure friendship," he finally said. During the last weeks Ari had dropped by again and again for short nightly conversations, which Alex actually enjoyed, even if he had to keep them as secret as the wise advice Sev whispered to him every now and then. He liked Ari's honesty and directness, her unpleasant questions and even more unpleasant answers to _his_ questions, he liked her smile and felt that there was a certain affection hiding behind it. And it annoyed him that he felt he was being treated like a little brother. Christian's smile, almost a smirk, did not make it better.   
"At least I use my dick," the bastard said, but his voice did not match his facial expression, which furthermore became a grimace. That irritated Alex after all, for Christian seemed unhappy. "Don't look at me like that," he hissed and Alex raised an eyebrow.   
"Don't tell me she forced you."   
Christian snorted and pulled something from his thick shirt: a miniature dagger as long as a little finger and jet black, hanging from a leather strap. "This is a token of her guild. I could use it to force her to do anything I could think of," he said bitterly, surprising Alex with both the token and the statement. "But the only thing I want from her, I cannot _force_."   
"Oh. You... you _love_ her." Even before he had uttered the thoughtless words, Christian hissed:   
"Shut up!" And much quieter, bitter again, he added: "What do you know about love?"   
_Nothing_ , Alex thought, but kept silent. Instead, he struggled against something else inside him, a certain satisfaction that Christian was not as happy as it seemed, and a certain relief that he was not the only one who was struggling with personal problems despite the war.

Zack was skidding back and forth in his saddle, making Alex a little nervous.   
"Is everything all right?" he wanted to know, and Zack slumped a little.   
"No."   
"Do you want to tell me?" It probably came down to that, because otherwise Zack would probably have chosen another rider as a partner.   
"Remember Joanna?" Zack asked quietly after a while.   
"No. Should I?", Alex cautiously wanted to know and wondered what was passing him by. That Stan and Theresa were a couple, he had also noticed rather by chance.   
"A sorceress. She is dead."   
"...oh." Alex felt incredibly stupid.   
"I should have said something," mumbled Zack, and Alex understood what Zack meant - at least he hoped he did.   
"You would have gotten a mitten."   
"Probably," Zack admitted frankly and surprised Alex a little, because like so many others, Zack usually pretended to be a born womanizer. "But maybe then I wouldn't feel so bad if I tried to jerk off thinking about a dead woman."   
"Oh." This was a very strange thought and Alex blinked at his horse's ears because he had no idea what kind of reaction Zack expected from him.   
"Do you know how long it's been since it worked?" Zack continued, obviously not expecting _any_ reaction. "Four weeks. She was still alive then." Considering that Zack was one of those who had been jerking off constantly during their squire days, that must have been a long time. On the other hand, a couple of months ago, when Alex had that weird conversation with Matt, he already couldn't remember the last time he touched himself - maybe neither of them were normal.   
Meanwhile, Zack kept talking and probably just needed someone to listen and say 'hmm' and stuff like that.  
"Do you think that's normal?" Zack then asked and Alex shrugged. He wasn't sure what the question referred to.   
"If this is about such matters, I am probably the wrong person to ask."   
"That..." Zack paused and then chuckled a little embarrassed, "is probably right."   
Alex forced a cautious smile on his lips and Zack looked at him crookedly.   
"It's a mystery to me how you control your dick so well."   
Alex snorted. "It's a mystery to me why others can't."   
They looked at each other, they both laughed and for a few moments the world was alright.

~

With trembling muscles and a numb shield arm, Sev literally stumbled into the big tent. Being allowed to fight had the unpleasant disadvantage that every soldier in this damn army felt like fighting him in a training fight to give him a beating. And it didn't help that he defeated three quarters of them. Only the one he would have liked to fight... he couldn't compete against. Alex was not allowed to lose face.   
Sev leaned the shield against his armor box and took a deep breath. The smell of armor and sweat was understandably strong in here, but he almost imagined smelling Alex' fine apple scent. Gods, how he would have loved to find out what this fine scent tasted like! How he would have loved to brush the hair off the pretty knight's face, to trace the fine lines of his back... but he should already be grateful that he was allowed to sleep in Alex's tent at all, that he could watch the blond prince dress and wash, that he had the opportunity to talk to him intimately late at night.   
With a sigh he loosened the sword belt and pulled the chain mail over his head. At least Owen and Morgan, as tent mates, were not as damn hostile as Will would face him when Alex was not around.  
"Sev?"   
With a startled hiss he turned around, bumped into the crate and almost lost his balance. In the sleeping place next to his, Morgan crouched and looked up at him questioningly.   
"Holy shit, you scared me," Sev murmured with a racing heart after a curse in his mother tongue had first crossed his lips.   
"You were completely gone, hmm? I asked you something three times." Morgan smiled weakly and Sev sighed.   
"Sorry."   
"No problem. Could you help me with this buckle here? Alex says you have skilled fingers."   
"Sure, I can." Sev nodded and wished that the statement 'skilled fingers' had a certain ambiguity. He let himself fall next to Morgan - his legs thanked him - and looked at the leg splint that Morgan was holding out to him. "You need a pair of pliers for that," he said as he looked at one of the buckles, which must have taken a really bad hit.   
"I have." Morgan held one up. "But I'm missing at least one hand." He grinned crookedly and Sev couldn't help but return it.

Sev might have a certain knack for these things, but Morgan's slender fingers were no less than his and it didn't take long to fix the problem.   
"Thank you. May... may I ask you one more favor?" Morgan seemed a little embarrassed and Sev shrugged half-heartedly.   
"Sure. What is it?"   
"Could you teach me the melody of your lament? For the flute." In the same movement in which he put the leg splint aside, he fished his flute from somewhere and Sev raised his brows.   
"I know nothing about music."   
"But you know exactly what the melody must sound like. I'm pretty good at adapting melodies, but I need a template."   
"Um... okay... I have no idea how to do this."   
"You can hum and go up and down with your hand at the same time to symbolize the tone."   
"Sounds almost like science."   
Morgan grinned crookedly. "Every art is a science."   
Sev laughed quietly. "Quite possible. The arts are not my specialty." He made an inviting gesture. "How do you imagine the melody?"   
Morgan blew the first note and Sev frowned "A flute only has a certain range," Morgan said apologetically and Sev nodded, wanted to say something, but then paused because he saw in the light of the hanging lantern how Morgan suddenly blushed.   
"What is it?"   
"You haven't made a stupid flute joke yet."   
"Should I have?" Sev asked puzzled and Morgan shrugged half-heartedly.   
"Everyone makes at least one sooner or later."   
"Then I won't have to join in. I'm sure you already know all the stupid sayings."   
"Probably." Morgan sighed and Sev nudged him with his shoulder.   
"You might start making stupid jokes when someone polishes his sword."   
Morgan smiled half-heartedly. "But that's necessary. Playing the flute is not."   
"But if you do enjoy it..."   
Morgan's cheeks reddened again and Sev had a hunch. Although Matt had warned him, he had made one or the other remark in a small friendly circle, which was at the same time funny and ambiguous enough to have the right effect on the right ears - simply because he was curious what kind of resonance it created.   
"Would you like to try it?" Morgan asked quietly and Sev, smiling, took the flute from him, turned it between his fingers and then looked at him.   
"This one? Rather not." He added a wink and the redness hit Morgan's face so hard that his fingers trembled when he took the flute from Sev's hand. "But I know how to play," Sev said softly, almost whispering, and Morgan looked at him like a frightened rabbit. "In the Empire, almost every soldier learns this _art_."   
"Oh...", Morgan breathed faintly.   
"But I know how things work here," he added and Morgan nodded hurriedly. It was silent for a moment and Sev gave Morgan the opportunity to digest the first shock and say something on his own.   
"I... I have... the wrong person could..."   
Sev didn't really want to know exactly what happened when an honorable knight was accused of carnal sins, so he nodded.   
"And... you know him...", Morgan murmured on and half turned away.   
"...Alex...?", Sev wanted to know quietly and Morgan nodded before he almost snorted bitterly.   
"If Will is allowed to have a crush on Ariel, I guess I can-" He paused when Sev started giggling. "What?"   
"Oh... well... Matt said practically the same thing. The other way around, though."   
And as Morgan was going _"Oh"_ Sev's giggles suddenly stopped.   
This could be a problem.   
They looked at each other scrutinizingly, and Morgan lowered his eyes first.   
"You... have experience...?"   
"Yes. Quite."   
"Would you...?"   
Sev was surprised by the desperation, the _hunger_ in Morgan's eyes as he raised his gaze again.   
"Would you...?" Sev couldn't- wouldn't- imagine what it was like to have to hide yourself like that, but then again, he hadn't dared to touch himself since he had changed sides. Even when Owen was practically right next to him eagerly doing it. It seemed oddly risky to let himself go like that and although he knew what Morgan wanted, what he was craving for, even a single kiss at the wrong moment-   
Trembling lips met his and he had to hold Morgan in place before the young man lost his balance. "Shh," Sev made softly and Morgan seemed to smile before he kissed Sev again shyly. Sev raised a hand to Morgan's cheek, stroked his thumb across his lower lip as their mouths separated for a heartbeat, his fingers wandering across the neck, shoulder, nape to the many braids. These warrior braids, so similar to Alex's, broke the dam of Sev's control and a greedy sound slipped from him, causing a hand to grip his neck tightly.

The kiss lasted long enough to make Sev's loins burn, but also long enough to be unpleasantly surprised by Alex's voice.   
"Hey, Morgan... are you still working on your armor?"   
Sev and Morgan jerked away from each other and Sev was more than happy about the partition between the working and sleeping areas in the big tent.   
"No, duty done," he said, and Morgan was smart enough to take the leg splint back in his hand and sit down so that his erection was not clearly visible.   
Alex stepped through the partition and nodded to them tiredly. "I told you Sev was skilled."   
"Yes", Morgan smiled shyly, "he is."   
"Don't exaggerate, that was just..." Sev gestured dismissively at the leg splint and Morgan grinned crookedly - it was contagious.   
"Whatever conspiracy you're planning, I don't want to get involved," Alex remarked critically and they both giggled like little boys. Alex put his shield down with a shake of his head.   
"Matt asked for you, Sev," he said slowly.   
"Okay..." Sev nodded as he got a short glance.   
"Okay..." Alex yawned and left without another word or look. Sev looked at Morgan, who smiled again shyly, but grabbed Sev's hand to help him stand up.  
"Thank you."   
Sev smiled and tapped Morgan on the nose. "For what? I have to thank you. Friends are rare these days."

~

Alex caught a wrist and sat up; even before he had really opened his eyes, he already had a dagger in his hand.   
"Feisty, hmm?" It was Ari who grinned at him and he moaned.   
"Why did you wake me up?"   
Her grin disappeared. "I know you didn't give the order, but my men took the liberty of silencing the sneaking Imperials."   
"They're sneaking around?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.   
"Yes, they do. Only a moment ago, someone came unpleasantly close."   
He sighed and now rubbed his whole face. "Thank you," he finally said and she nodded. "How are the Green Sleeves?"   
"As well as we can be." She hinted at a shrug, but smiled weakly. "How about you? Are you all right?"   
"Sure." He forced a tired smile on his face. "I live privileged enough that I should be fine. But definitely privileged enough to ask who you are." The question had been on his mind for some time. Ari blinked in amazement, then laughed softly.   
"You know who I am."   
"No. Honestly, do you think _Ari_ is a real name?" He raised one eyebrow and there it was again, that weird smile.   
"Rogues like short names. _Alex_."   
He got goose bumps. "Want to tell me your _real_ name?"   
"Guess."  
"Ariel."   
"No."   
"Arianna."   
"Right."   
He shuddered again, but this time for a different reason. The name was too gentle for such a dangerous woman and besides... she had nothing in common with the dark-haired woman in the portraits who had been his mother.   
"I was born on your parents' wedding day, which is why my mother named me after the beautiful young queen. Perhaps she hoped I would..." With an almost sad smile Ari broke off and looked away. If she was honest with herself, Alex thought, she could well claim to have found a prince as well. Christian would never become king as a bastard, but still...   
Alex also lowered his eyes and licked his dry lips, suppressed the urge to touch her, to comfort her, so that the sad expression would disappear from her eyes. "What about your parents?" That was definitely the wrong question, he realized immediately, but it was too late.   
"They are long dead." She shrugged, but obviously she did care. "I practically inherited my father's job."   
"He was a rogue?"   
She nodded. "Got hanged. Ugly story. But that's the way it goes... most rogues don't live long." A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about how many of the rogues had died here in the war.   
"You could... with Christian you could..."   
"No." She shook her head softly. "Rogues don't live life the way you do. And I am a rogue, not a... _wife_." It was strange to imagine.   
"Why did you interfere in the war?", he asked then, to change the subject, because that too was a question he had been asking himself for a while, but had not yet spoken out.   
"Because we all swore to Whitehill and its sovereign," she said seriously, but with a proud smile. "All here are volunteers, all here are ready to protect their homeland."   
"And you are under the sole authority of Samson or me..." mumbled Alex. "Are you at least getting paid for it?"   
She grinned crookedly. "Those who come back will be paid like your soldiers, yes." _Those who come back..._   
He shuddered again. "I think you deserve more than that."   
"Yeah?" She tilted her head, still grinning. "Well, when you're king, you can settle this as you like. Until then, we'll live with your thanks."   
"But hollow words are neither a roof over your head nor a hot meal."  
"That's true, but for now we're provided for."   
With a sigh he brushed across his dishevelled braids. Somehow that didn't seem fair to him.   
"Your hair looks awful." She changed the subject so suddenly that he blinked at her irritated for a moment.   
"I know," he finally said, tugging at them.   
"Shall I help you?" she offered and he shook his head.   
"No thanks, I'll do it myself in the morning." Probably Morgan would have mercy and help him, but actually- "Hey!" Ari's magic tugged at his hair, loosened the ties and unraveled the braids. She giggled. A few heartbeats later, waves of hair shimmering golden in the light fell down over his shoulders.   
"If it wasn't in the middle of the night, I would do it myself," she said, and before he could protest, magic fingers were weaving new braids. "I put a light cover over them so that they still look like this in the morning."   
"Thank you," he said a little sourly and then paused. "Really, _thanks_ is such a hollow word..."   
"For a magic trick you really don't need to put a coin in my hand. After all, I was born with it."   
"Yeah, sure, but..." He searched for words and finally pointed a little helplessly to the surroundings. "You don't have to be here. Here at war, here with me. I mean... what you do cannot be repaid with filthy coins or hollow phrases."   
She laughed so loud and heartfelt that he flinched- without the usual magical shield she would have woken up a lot of people. "And how will you repay me?"   
"I don't know," he admitted, "but it doesn't seem fair to me."   
She giggled like a little girl, and he felt a little stupid. But then she paused and looked at him thoughtfully. "How about a kiss?"   
"A... kiss?" Stunned, he blinked and she nodded. Under her gaze his cheeks began to burn - if she wanted a kiss, she could go to Christian, couldn't she? But on the other hand... excitement like before a battle rushed through his body and before he really thought about it, he leaned to the side where she was sitting next to him and kissed her - a strange fluttering crept up to his toes. Her lips were warm and soft and disappeared far too quickly. With two fingertips she touched his cheek, her eyes sparkled.   
"You kiss like a little boy," she whispered, leaned back and disappeared. He felt the breeze as she stood up and slipped out of the tent hidden by magic, smelled the scent of her magic- and was speechless.   
His lips burned, his cheeks burned... and somewhere inside of him hurt pride was burning.

~

Sev sucked on his lower lip and finally turned onto his stomach.   
"Alex?"   
"Hmm." came the mumbled answer.   
"Will you tell me what's bothering you?"   
"Nothing."   
"Sure..." Sev rolled his eyes in the darkness. Since four days Alex was now tense like a bowstring and slowly it became really uncomfortable. "You know, I could speculate until you get sick..."   
Alex growled. "Shut up, Sev."   
"Speak and I will be silent," Sev returned majestically and Alex growled again, this time annoyed, but didn't answer. "Well?"   
"You will wake the others."   
"I don't care. Your prickiness concerns us all."   
Alex rolled on his back and rubbed his face before mumbling something between his fingers that sounded like 'kiss'.   
"Excuse me?"   
"I said I kissed Ari."   
Stunned Sev blinked, saw in the darkness how Alex looked at him upside down and then swallowed. "Oh."   
"She teased me..." mumbled Alex, "and... challenged me? No, not really. But it feels that way."   
"And...", Sev fought against his speechlessness, "did you win or lose?"   
"She said I kiss like a little boy, so I guess I lost." He sounded hurt, maybe even a little bitter, and Sev had a bad feeling. Everyone with eyes in their head saw what was going on between Ari and Christian and if Alex got involved now... "You know, when you're not good at something, you usually practice until you get better." He wondered how he managed to get such a casual tone, but Alex snorted.   
"Sure..."   
"I could teach you." Sev's tone of voice was still relaxed, although his heart suddenly seemed to be in his throat.   
"No," Alex said hard.   
"No?"   
"No. I don't kiss men."   
"Why not?" Now Sev was hot and cold.   
"It's a _sin_ , Sev. Two men don't belong together."   
"I only meant that you could learn to..." Suddenly the words in his head didn't make sense anymore and Alex snorted again.   
"No. The Great Mother created man and woman as a pair and there is nothing to change that. If you really want to be one of us, you should consider this." He sounded so dismissive, it hurt.   
"I didn't mean to insult you or your beliefs, Alex. I just want to help you," Sev said quietly, trying to find the slightly submissive tone that in his experience would calm Alex. Not that it was too difficult for him, but the stubbornness in Alex's words was more shocking than the warnings of Matt and Morgan had suggested.   
"Sins are not helpful."   
"I'll keep that in mind..." The gods were probably rolling with laughter and congratulating each other for their game with the bastard prince named Severio.   
He looked over to the sleeping Morgan and suddenly could understand his painful despair much better. The Empire might have its faults, but this, the denunciation of sexuality ... this was something that could hit anyone, that could break anyone.   
He thought of the whispers about Alex's brother Sebastian and wondered what Alex really thought about it. If it went in the direction he had just indicated, then Alex was Sev's punishment on earth.

~

The laughter of Ari and two of her comrades sounded strangely out of place. Matt could hardly see the three figures through the fog, although they couldn't have been far away.   
Alex grunted suppressed as he lifted a crate and then Matt groaned as Alex dropped the crate into his arms with much more momentum than necessary. He pushed the crate onto another one and returned to the cart. He didn't have a problem with setting up and taking down the camp like everyone else, had even found a trick to use his magic to help set up his own huge tent, but Alex as a partner was... exhausting. Again the blond prince peered through the fog, over to Ari.   
"Say, is there a reason why you're staring at Ari all the time?" Matt asked casually when Alex didn't make any effort to unload the cart anymore.   
"I'm not staring," Alex said gloomily and dropped the next crate with even more momentum than the previous one. Matt magically cushioned the weight - it was disgusting how easy it was- and sighed.   
"Come on. You can talk to me."   
He got an angry look. "Why does everyone think they have to mother me?"   
"Maybe because our survival depends largely on your orders." That sounded harder than Matt intended, so he added: "Talk to anybody if I'm the wrong person. But don't keep it all inside you."   
Alex at least paused, looked like he was thinking about it. Finally, he jumped off the cart and, in a thoughtful gesture that he had gotten used to, plucked at one of the braids. "We are brothers, aren't we?"   
"More or less, yes," Matt slowly agreed with him, and then his eyebrows rose when Alex told him about Ari.   
  
"And now?" Matt finally asked quietly.   
"How should _I_ know?" Alex returned. And then his hard shell got a crack. "Everyone expects me to make decisions and act, but... How can I make decisions for an army, for so many lives, when I don't even know what I want for myself?"   
Matt had no answer for that. But he didn't have to answer either, because someone called for Prince Alexander and Alex put on his commander's mask before he left.   
Matt rubbed his face. "Shit," he murmured, although that wasn't even his primary problem. Again he heard Ari laughing and called out for her.   
"Lord Hazel?" she called back mockingly.   
"A word."   
"Of course, Lord Hazel." She emerged from the fog like a spirit and her grin disappeared almost immediately when she looked at him. "My goodness, what happened?" she wanted to know and he sighed.   
" _Alex_."   
She lowered her eyes. "I didn't mean to," she said quietly.   
"Then why did you tease him at all?"   
"Because I didn't expect him to do it." She shook her head weakly. "He is so much the well-mannered prince and disciplined knight that-"   
"But he's also a young man with no experience at all, Ari." He looked at her sternly and she sighed.   
"I know." To his surprise, she blushed, but then just said: "I'm sorry."   
"Talk to him."   
"For you diplomats, talking is always the only solution, right?"   
"What else can you do? Sitting this problem out is _not_ an acceptable solution, and neither is a love triangle for two such stubborn princes." The thought of sharing the woman he loved with another man was terrible, and he couldn't imagine how the half-brothers, who were already not quite friendly with each other anyway, would deal with it. For there was no doubt for him that feelings were involved.   
Ari sighed again and brushed a strand from her forehead. "You are probably right. I'm sorry, my way of life is... a little out of place here."   
"Let's just say a little relaxation would do Alex good, but I don't know if it's worth it," Matt said slowly and she nodded. "Love and pride are sharper than any blade and three times as cruel."   
"Tell me about it." She made a face.  
His chest was burning, hot and sharp, and just a notch below being painful.   
Ari looked at him and the uncertainty on her face worried him.   
_May the Great Mother have mercy on us._


	17. Broken Things

Sev was tired, he was cold, hungry and generally not in the best mood. It didn't help when Owen stepped up to him just as he was about to pick up his dinner.   
"Hey..." the redhead said, rubbing his hands to warm them.   
"Hey...", Sev replied, nodding at him.   
"Alex wants to see you.", Owen said, nodding his head weakly in the direction he had come from. "Sitting at his letters again."   
Sev nodded and stifled a longing glance at the cauldron of stew. "Okay...thanks." He trudged across the camp, emptying his head and pulling his shoulders up after a glance at the clear starry sky. Dull and empty- war was cruel. War in winter was even crueler.

He knocked only briefly on the tent flap before entering, and Alex raised his eyes only briefly before continuing to write with concentration. Here inside it was a little warmer thanks to the two lanterns and the magic warming stone, but the few wizards had trouble making these stones for all the tents and recharging them regularly.   
Sev waited indecisively for a moment, but as he was about to say something, Alex anticipated him with a sigh. He pushed the papers aside and rubbed his face.   
"Are you all right?" asked Sev quietly. He knew the weight resting on Alex' shoulders, and all the advice in the world, all the help with reading and answering the letters wasn't enough in his eyes. Alex needed more than that, Sev knew.   
Alex gave a hum and then stood up, leaning against the table and looking at Sev.   
Sev returned the gaze and could watch as the overwhelmed commander became again a young man.   
"Why did you say that in the night?" he finally wanted to know.   
"What exactly do you mean?" Sev asked back, before making a fool of himself with a hasty answer.   
"The...the kiss thing."   
"My offer to teach you?"   
Alex nodded.   
Sev shrugged. "In the Empire, relationships between men are perfectly normal. Especially in war." He thought of Cyril, but didn't want to shock Alex further with the explanation about pleasure slaves.   
"You like that?" The words fell out of Alex's mouth as if they were stones, and Sev felt the tension in the tent rise. He lowered his eyes to the table which stood rather symbolically between them.   
"I admittedly like men more than women." Now it was officially said. When Alex didn't respond, he looked back up- the prince had gone pale and his lips twitched as if he had to laboriously hold back a reply. Sev involuntarily pulled his shoulders up, but that's when Alex blurted out:   
"I don't want you to think of us that way." His cheeks got splotches of red. "You're basically just a prisoner, but you've been a better friend to me than most others these past few weeks. I want to keep it that way."   
Hearing the quiet desperation hurt as much as the words _'better friend'_ warmed. "I'm honored by your friendship, I really am," Sev said in a hushed voice, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "My offer came from the fact that friends help each other."   
"But not like _that_!" Alex replied more vehemently than expected. "You're not in the Empire here."   
"I-"   
"This kind of thing doesn't belong here!"   
Sev closed his mouth and licked his dry lips. Now it suddenly just hurt to listen to Alex, to see the rejection on his face. "I know that the Great Mother teaches different things than the Pantheon of the Empire. The gods of the pantheon are often cruel, but one thing they have advantage over the Great Mother is acceptance." He raised his eyes. Alex's disapproving frown was like a stab in the back, and he backed away. "Or maybe we just define the word _friendship_ differently," he said quietly, storming out of the tent.   
"Sev!"   
He didn't respond, but just rushed off, bumping into someone several times and spinning around, so that at one point he was standing disoriented somewhere in the camp, not sure where he was.   
"Are you okay, Sev?"   
He winced and saw Ari standing in the glow of a magical spark not far from him, a vaguely worried expression on her face.   
"Yes. No."   
"Do you want your peace and quiet, or would you rather have distracting company? Or someone to talk to?"   
Like a fish out of water, he opened his mouth a few times, then nodded.   
Ari raised a brow. "A _yes_ with three options is a little... difficult to interpret."   
"I... I'm sorry." His tense shoulders slumped and he had to concentrate to look at Ari. _Ari._ Sev had no idea how this woman really felt about Christian and Alex- he couldn't even come to a conclusion when he thought about it, when and where that kiss had taken place. He had no idea how Alex felt about her, too, but he strongly suspected that Alex didn't know himself either. "I'm sorry." he repeated, forcing himself to smile; the burning of tears in his eyes faded. Maybe he could find out something about Ari. "A little company would be nice..."   
She returned the smile and nodded. "Come on, then."

They weren't going far before they reached the green-sleeves area and settled down by a fire where Christian, Tom, and another man were sitting.   
"What happened to you?", Christian wanted to know in surprise, even before Sev was properly seated.   
"Unpleasant conversation with Alex.", Sev replied curtly and Christian snorted.   
"There's been quite a few of those for quite a few people lately."   
"Does that surprise you?", Tom wanted to know and Christian shook his head.   
"Nope." He reached for a wineskin and shook it. "If my little brother keeps this up, he's going to crack." He took a sip and passed the wineskin to Sev, who didn't drink until the unknown man said:   
"Then you should gather your balls and help him. Before you soon run out of brothers."   
Again, Christian gave a snort, but this time dismissively. "I'll do what I can, Corry, and you know it. But I'm still just a bastard."   
Sev handed the wineskin to Corry, who nodded curtly, and said: "You're still a prince, though..."   
"So what? Anyone with a nose can tell you I'm an Appleberry, and that's the only reason my father had to acknowledge me. The fact that Samson let me keep my title and rights is probably solely because I'm actually useful to Alex that way."   
Ari gave a sort of critical snort, but Christian continued in his serious, surprisingly non-bitter tone:  
"If Samson dies and Alex becomes king, that's back on the table."   
"So suck it up to him or you'll have to join us soon," Corry said with a cheerful wink, and Christian rolled his eyes.   
Tom laughed softly. "Brothers fight and make up, Corry. That's life."   
Corry shrugged. "Can't say I agree."   
"Don't you have any siblings?" Sev asked and Corry shook his head.   
"Do you?"   
"Two half-brothers and an unknown number of half-sisters."  
"Oh, right. I've heard your chatter about the principle of a harem." Corry grinned and Ari sighed.  
"You'd like that, hmm?"   
"You know him." Tom sighed as well and Corry laughed.   
"Like you're all monogamous."   
That obviously hit a sore spot, because Sev saw it twitch briefly on both Christian's and Ari's faces.   
"I was under the impression that would be a very strict issue here in the Eastern Kingdoms," Sev said, trying not to sound too stupidly curious.   
"Depends on who you ask," Corry said promptly. "I mean, _we_ practically never get married, but everyone else is a different story."   
Christian shook his head. "The Great Mother teaches us the Duality of Being. There's a lot of emphasis on family. But things like virginity before marriage are changing with the times."   
"And anyway, if you know _where_ and if you have enough money, you can buy anything anyway," Tom interjected with a roll of his eyes. "I mean, what you do in your bedroom is between you and the second person, isn't it?"   
Ari nudged Tom. "Don't act like that. Gossip is everywhere."   
"But he's right: you can basically buy any kind of companionship you want," Corry said, looking directly at Sev. At that, his look said that really did encompass all the kinds of play you could imagine, and Sev swallowed.   
"I didn't mean to imply-"  
"You can be frank about it," Tom interrupted him, sounding oddly tired. "A... green sleeve... sees just about everything in the course of his life."   
For an uncomfortably long moment, the four of them looked at him and Sev licked his lips before shrugging- as if he actually didn't care at all. "I prefer men."   
Tom shrugged as well. "So did my brother."   
Ari smiled encouragingly at Sev. "My first experiences were with my foster sister."   
Christian sighed. "That's _their_ world, Sev. Sebastian preferred men, too, and killed himself over it."  
"I thought that was just a rumor."  
The bastard prince shook his head. "He was in love with Matt Hazel. I don't know exactly what happened between them, but I spoke to him before we left"- his gaze flickered briefly to Ari- "and he was completely distraught." He paused and his face twitched; Sev wasn't sure, but he thought he could see guilt in it. "He never really said it, but I think... I think he would have preferred to be a woman."   
Sev raised a brow, thinking of the despair Morgan already held. How had a prince to feel then, forced into marriage on top of his outlawed sexuality?   
"Is something like this normal in your empire?", Corry wanted to know and Sev shrugged.   
"In general, same-sex relationships are completely normal, yes. In addition, there is a lesser deity who is portrayed as both a man and a woman. The priesthood is mostly made up of men who are... _different_. I don't know that exactly, I've been more involved with the cult of our war god."   
From this, a surprisingly open and interested conversation about religion ensued, which turned to culinary matters when Corry- who had heard Sev's stomach growl- got himself and Sev some of the stew. They shared enough wine to keep Sev's mind off the fact that he'd had a fight with Alex when he was offered- and accepted- a place to sleep with Tom and Corry in the latter's small tent.

~

"In the name of the Great Mother: where have you been?" Alex was angry, worried, a little guilty- but mostly angry.   
Sev, who had just entered the tent, looked caught off guard- and then he frowned in annoyance. "I was with the green sleeves. They very obviously don't care who sleeps in the tent with them." The last part sounded venomous, and at once Sev turned to leave.   
"Sev." Alex dropped the quill and stood up. "Sev, wait."   
Sev, hand already on the tent flap, paused.   
"I was worried," Alex admitted, wondering at the same moment what he was actually angry about.   
"That I'd run away? Or that I'd rape one of your friends?", Sev bitterly wanted to know.   
"You should have said where you were going," Alex returned, ignoring Sev's objection.   
Sev snorted. "I didn't know that before I got there, though."   
"Sev...look at me. Please." Alex had been thinking instead of sleeping- was nothing new anymore. Now, as Sev turned and looked at him, angry, bitter, hurt, he wondered again why he had been angry in the first place. Why he had been angry at Sev and not at himself. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.   
"Sorry for what?", Sev coolly wanted to know, wrapping his arms around himself.   
"I didn't intend for you to leave and not come back."   
"You sound like a kid."   
"I know." Alex lowered his eyes to the tabletop. He felt like one, too. He voiced the thought and Sev sighed. "I've been thinking," Alex continued directly, though. "Or at least I've been trying."  
"And?"   
"I don't want to lose you as a friend. So I shouldn't care what or who you like."   
Sev took a hissing breath and again Alex continued before Sev could say anything.   
"I don't mean _don't care_ in a negative sense! But... it's none of my business." To his surprise, Sev came up to him with quick steps and gave him a hard punch to the chest.   
"Do you actually realize that your brother killed himself because of this non-acceptance in your society? Do you know what it looks like inside of the men and women who live around you?"   
Alex took a step back. "I-" He intercepted a second blow.   
"Look outside your religious box! Why does the Great Mother allow people like Sebastian to exist when it's so reprehensible?"   
"Sev, I-"   
Sev wrenched his wrist from Alex's grip and threw his arms in the air in a resigned gesture. "But what am I even talking for?"   
"Sev!" Alex shook off the surprise and raised his hands placatingly. "I get it, I'm sorry for what I said." And because he'd been thinking about it too, he said: "We don't pick and choose how we feel about who."   
"No, we don't," Sev agreed with him quietly.   
"It's none of my business," Alex repeated carefully, though he knew that knowledge would haunt him anyway.   
Sev sighed. "No, it's none of your business. Unless it's about you." It sounded like an accusation, and then Alex's mind twirl lingered on something.   
"This young man you were grieving for so much... was that... your _lover_?"   
Sev seemed surprised. "Something like that."   
"I'm sorry about that." As strange, as... _unfamiliar_ as the thought was, he really was sorry.   
Sev sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek, and then he yelled: "You're an idiot! A huge, naive idiotic asshole!"   
"Excuse me?" It was more the abruptness than the words themselves that stunned Alex.   
"If my friendship is so important to you, why didn't you even think of comforting me?" Sev was still yelling, wiping tears from his face with shaking hands, and Alex blinked, now fully bewildered.   
"I..." He spread his arms in a helpless gesture, only realizing that Sev had interpreted it as an invitation when the latter clung to him, sobbing. "I'm sorry." Alex said softly, returning the hug hesitantly.   
"You're an idiot!" Sev said, sniffling against his shoulder and banging his fist against the other- though rather gently.   
"You've got a few years of life ahead of me," Alex returned, feeling like the idiot Sev had just called him. To that, Sev said nothing, and although Alex was a little uncomfortable with the hug, he didn't push Sev away. In fact... in fact, the gesture was no different than if it had been Ariel. He felt a part of him relax, and then Sev murmured:   
"Admit it, the hug feels good to you."   
"Yeah.", Alex murmured back. He still didn't want Sev to think of him in a weird way.   
"Knock, knock..."   
Sev jerked back and Alex lifted his head.   
Christian stood in the tent flap, grinning stupidly.   
"You knock _before_ you enter!" Alex hissed in embarrassment.   
"Am I interrupting?"   
"You're always interrupting!"   
"We made up," Sev said quietly, and Christian's grin grew.   
"I can see." Then the grin faded, though, and he lifted a note. "I took the liberty of opening it. I can't read a word of it, though."   
"From Samson?", Alex wanted to know and walked over to Christian to take the message.   
"Yes. The signature is the only thing that's halfway legible." The bastard sounded concerned, and Alex glanced at the message- to him it was just lines, sometimes jagged, sometimes wavy, but no words.   
"That one might say Sunplains." Sev piped up, who had stepped up beside him, pointing somewhere in the middle.   
"Possible." agreed Christian, though not particularly convinced.

For a while the three of them puzzled over it, until Sev took the message and announced he would show it to Matt. Before Alex could protest, he was already gone.   
Christian sighed. "How much of an asshole were you to make Sev cry?" The question was deadly serious, despite the slightly mocking undertone.   
"A lot.", Alex answered curtly, because it wasn't really any of Christian's business, but since Sev had been talking about making up quite deliberately, he had probably told Christian about it the night before. "I'm sorry. About Sebastian, I mean." he said then, nevertheless, and Christian raised his brows in surprise.   
"Yeah, me too." He seemed to want to say something else, but then let it go and nodded to the tent exit instead.   
Alex nodded back.

~

The howling of the icy wind had found its way into Sev's dreams. He knew he was simply having a nightmare, he felt his hands twitch, and he heard a whimper, but when he awoke and the sounds didn't change, he blinked disoriented into the darkness. The wind blew around the tent, tugging at the heavy tarps, and Sev shivered even though he was wrapped in his blankets.   
There was a rustling and then Owen began to snore softly.   
The whimpering repeated, became an agonized sound, and Sev half turned- though he saw practically nothing, he looked over at Morgan.   
A quiet sob.   
"Morgan?" Sev whispered. "Morgan, hey..." He reached out and touched the knight- who began to shriek.   
Morgan shrieked and screamed incomprehensible words, and after a moment's shock, Sev rolled around and pulled him- who by now was flailing violently- to hold him still.   
"Shh, Morgan, it's all right, it's all right, take it easy..."   
Suddenly, light flared and out of the corner of his eye, Sev saw that Alex had retrieved a lantern from the front of the tent.   
In the dancing shadows, Owen knelt, ready to fight, but indecisive. "Morgan, please..." he said rough, but Sev pushed the writhing knight to the ground and shook his head.   
"What's wrong with him?", Alex wanted to know anxiously.   
"A very real nightmare, I guess," Sev said strained, and was drowned out by Morgan, who gave another agonized cry and then went limp. And then he began to sob. Sev wasn't sure if he was awake or not, but he pulled him much more gently now to him. "It's okay, we're all here, it's all right..."   
Morgan cried like a helpless child and clung to Sev, who murmured soothing nonsense and stroked his head.   
Owen cleared his throat, but then fell silent, and Alex whispered tonelessly:   
"I'll leave the lantern here." He turned the light down enough that you could barely see, but it was enough.   
Morgan continued to sob, crying until sleep returned and made it a sniffle, and Sev held him until he was almost completely calm. "Don't leave!", Morgan then begged near panic, however, as Sev gently wrapped him in his blankets; Owen was already back to snoring.   
"I'm here.", Sev assured him, but Morgan held his hand tightly and pulled him close, pressing his face against Sev's chest and he suppressed a sigh before wrapping his arms around Morgan. Despite his conversation with Alex the day before, the latter would not be too pleased at the sight. To predict what Owen might be thinking, he didn't know him well enough, but at least Owen wasn't a gossip.   
But perhaps none of that mattered anyway, because Sev noted with some longing how much he had missed such a cuddle. It wasn't Cyril, it wasn't Alex, but that didn't matter. It was war, he was a prisoner, and both sides needed comfort to mend the cracks of their selves before it was too late.  
  


A firm but friendly grip on his shoulder woke Sev and for a moment he was confused as to why he had black braids in his face, but then he lifted his head.   
"Hey..." Alex said very quietly, "I thought we could let Morgan sleep a little longer, but you're at the top of the training schedule."   
Sev nodded mutely, squirmed his way out of Morgan's hug, and sat up. He caught an embarrassed glance from Owen, who was just struggling with his boots, and then forced himself to look properly at Alex.   
He seemed to have been waiting for it, but blushed anyway - and probably came to the wrong conclusion, because he smiled a little tensely and nodded as if he gave his blessing.   
Great, such a misunderstanding was all Sev needed now.  
  


Sev's attempt to make things at least somewhat clear, however, was thwarted by the fact that Alex's plan for the day was to talk to all sorts of people while Sev had to stay on the frozen patch of meadow that was today's training ground. Just as he was sheathing his sword, trying not to let his frustration at the defeat he had just suffered show, Will came along the way. He really didn't have the nerve for him and his hostility right now, but with Will coming purposefully toward him, a conversation was probably inevitable.   
"Do you have a moment?" the young knight also asked promptly.   
"Sure." Sev tilted his head in agreement.   
They moved a bit away from the men who were laughing, chatting, training, and watching.   
"So... what's there to talk about?", Sev wanted to know, striking as neutral a tone as possible.   
Will took a deep breath and Sev was already expecting angry words, but instead Will controlled himself. "You're still carrying Alex's sword."   
Sev almost overheard the accusatory tone because the statement itself surprised him. "That... yes." He blinked. "Somehow... somehow it was never the point..." He shrugged, but he could tell from Will's expression that there was a catch.   
"Doesn't carrying another man's sword mean anything with you guys?", Will wanted to know, not sounding like he really cared about the answer. For that reason alone, Sev grinned at him.   
"In the Empire, soldiers exchange swords when they become a couple."   
Disdain flitted across Will's face. "Here, one man presents his sword to another as a sign of the highest respect, deepest friendship and solidarity, as a token of an immaterial debt..."- a gesture indicated that the list would go on in that regard- "and for _you_ , of all people, to carry Alex's sword... not everyone likes to see that."   
"If I had been told earlier, I would have given it back to him immediately," Sev returned. He was aware of his situation and not offended, because Alex had actually lent him the sword merely for this one battle. Alex had argued before that Sev had saved his life, but still, this sword gesture was probably too much of a good thing in relation to a prisoner of war.   
"So you're going to give it back to him?" Will asked cautiously, and Sev nodded, an almost provocative smile on his face.   
"I had no intention of... _defiling_ your traditions. And my traditions... well... I don't have my own sword to exchange anymore."   
Indignation or disgust or something of the sort made Will blush. He nodded curtly, then turned on his heel.   
Sev exhaled heavily and looked after him. Alex knew about this, after all, so why hadn't he reclaimed the sword? Sev couldn't imagine that Alex, who was so traditional and downright conservative, would forget something so important. And without a corresponding explanation to Sev, a deliberate gesture would have been pointless, too. With a weak shake of his head, he patted the sword pommel and went back to the others.

~

"Do we ever actually stop running away at some point?" At Nicholas' bitter question, Alex looked at his friend. Side by side, they marched into battle position.   
"Right now, we're not running away. We intentionally chose this battlefield," Alex said, and Nicholas grimaced.   
"Still, we've retreated way too far already. Look around, we're deep in Whitehill's plains." At his sweeping gesture, not only did he nearly hit Stan at the head, but a fetid cloud rose from his armor. In this weather and with the constant prospect of battle, no one thought to wash the thick padding, but the smell of old sweat and oil didn't mix well with Nicholas' family smell of flowers and bitter-sweet fruit.   
"I know. But we're waiting for the Darkmoore troops," Alex returned with a patience he really didn't have anymore. He suppressed the urge to rub his nose- he didn't smell much better himself.   
"And you're sure they're coming?" Owen growled before Nicholas could.   
"I trust Robin and his uncle." Alex nodded at his words. "What would they have to gain by lying to us?"   
"You're awfully naive sometimes," Nicholas complained, and Alex's patience thread snapped.   
"Then go home and deal with your shit on your own!"   
Nicholas flinched.   
"Alex..." admonished Sev quietly behind him, but Alex shook his head defensively.   
"You're just whining! You should be glad to be alive. You can make a difference for your country."   
"Make a difference?" Nicholas' voice took on a shrill undertone. " _My_ homeland is completely conquered and you're handing over more of _your_ country to these sons of bitches every day. What good is that going to do?" Such a discussion right before a battle was anything but helpful, and Alex saw some of the knights around him roll their shoulders uncomfortably.   
"We're waiting for the Darkmoore forces to either flank or stab the Empire in the back. And if you'd been listening to Sev you'd know that most Imperial soldiers don't know a winter like this one at all. If we're already freezing, how are they?"   
Nicholas snorted a white cloud.   
"Listen, Nick, we're taking your kingdom back."   
"Let it go, Alex..." the uncrowned king muttered in bitter resignation.   
"No, I'm serious." Alex placed an armored hand on his armored shoulder. "We're going to get Ringbay back. I promise."   
"Don't make promises you can't keep."   
Alex gave him a playful shove with his fist. "Then make sure you don't let me die."

~

Matt swayed. The magic pulled and tugged at him; it tingled in his fingertips, on his scalp, and strangely, on his lips, too. He followed the battle through the eyes of his puppets, but twenty of them didn't leave him enough attention for other things, and besides, he wasn't militarily trained to be able to read much from the different perspectives. It was the voices of Ariel and Will that guided him in these moments, he blanked out everything else. One of his puppets had its knee smashed- he let it go and picked up another. The familiar touch of Ariel's magic brushed over him, and for two heartbeats he imagined the tingling of his lips came from her kiss.   
"Ariel!"   
Something about the voice irritated him.   
_"Ariel!"_  
Was that Sev?   
"Ariel! Matt!" Sev's voice screeched over the sounds of battle, and that alone was enough to make Matt let go of half his puppets and turn his attention away. "Ariel! I need you!"   
Matt looked to Ariel, who took a step back with a frown.   
_"Ariel!"_ Sev pushed past a knight and gasped. "Alex... is hurt... come..."   
Ariel didn't need to be told twice, and Matt rushed after her as well, even though he wouldn't be able to help. The twins never fought more than ten, twenty yards from each other, but Sev's utterly distraught state was enough to send an ice-cold lump to Matt's stomach and make the few yards seem like a days-long march.

_"Alex!"_ Ariel's screech rang in Matt's ears and he blinked.   
Alex was lying on his back, very obviously breathing heavily.   
"Matt, shield us!"  
Without comment, he did as told.   
"Alex! I'm here..."   
Alex merely grunted.   
Matt solidified his shield and let his puppets approach; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sev remove Alex's helmet and Ariel's magic envelop her brother in green. Unable to help, he continued to fight, but nonetheless, he got that something was wrong. Ariel's magic was not behaving as it should, he sensed it.   
"Ariel? What's wrong?" he finally wanted to know and half turned around.   
Ariel's face was expressionless. "I don't know. I'm not a real healer."   
"But you can do it, right?" Sev tensely asked; his slender fingers stroked Alex's braids.   
"Yes." she said curtly.   
"Ariel..." Alex murmured weakly- Matt swallowed, because that didn't sound good.   
"I'm here. I'll patch you up."   
But Alex moaned quietly.   
"Matt, come here...I need you."   
"But what do you want me to do?" he asked in irritation, still dutifully letting go of the puppets. The twins, as well as Sev, were terribly pale, but when Ariel looked at him, there was almost a gleam of madness in her eyes.   
"You must keep death away from him."   
"Excuse me? How am I supposed to do that?" Dumbfounded, he looked at her as his body moved to Alex's side and knelt there without his intervention.   
"Just do it!" she hissed.   
Matt swallowed. He was caught beyond his comprehension. But as he very carefully touched Alex with his magic, he could feel it: death was reaching for the knight. It was like the whisper of the wind, barely perceptible, but there nonetheless, and Matt spread his fingers, following instincts that had been buried for years and fought free in recent months. Visible only to his eyes, fine black threads detached themselves from Alex and floated toward Matt, whose body simply absorbed the threads.   
Still: it was not enough. More and more threads, condensing into a mist in no time, swirled around Alex, making Ariel's green magic seem dirty. She struggled, and yet it amazed Matt how hard she had to fight. He'd thought the magic between the twins was powerful, but apparently it wasn't. Or, it went through his mind, time and circumstance had intervened between them.   
"Ariel..." whispered Alex weakly.   
"I'm here." she said tensely. "It's going to be okay."   
"No... let me go..."  
"No!" she protested loudly. Her magic flickered.   
"Christian shall..."   
"Alex, I can do it!"   
"No..." He smiled wryly. "You don't."   
Matt forgot about his magic because of the tension, but it didn't matter anymore.   
"Christian shall... the army..."   
"Alex, no, shut up..." Now Ariel sounded exasperated and Alex's smile widened.   
"It's okay..." he muttered and Ariel's magic flared up, making Matt squeeze his eyes shut, blinded.   
"Ariel!"   
"Get Theresa!" she yelled at him.   
"Ariel, stop it!" White spots danced before his eyes, her magic sparkling in various shades of green, but he grabbed her wrist. "Stop it!"   
She screeched an incomprehensible reply.   
"Ariel! It's no use anymore! Keep your magic in check!" he yelled back, grabbing her second wrist as well and shaking her until she looked at him. "It's no use anymore. He's dead."


End file.
